The Practice of Love, Outtakes and Extras
by belladonnacullen
Summary: The scenes that didn't make the cut, the extras I wrote for various charities, thank-yous to my readers. You guys rock!
1. Chapter 1

** Just a little sumthin' sumthin' that didn't fit in with the epi... Thanks for helping TPoL make the list of Top 100 Edward & Bella fics of 2010!**

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**May, 2031**

**BPOV**

I woke to quiet sunshine and warmth, and to large hands skimming over my skin; finding a home in the dip and flair of my hip. It was by far and away my favorite way to start the day.

A chapped kiss on the back of my neck… Warmth and soft down coming flush with my back… Lightweight cotton sheets ghosting over my bare skin…

"Baby?"

I sighed and pressed my backside against him in response. Edward growled in my ear, a playful and needy and sexy sound - all rolled into one.

Morning sex was another favorite of mine.

But today's date came to me in a rush of consciousness and I jumped to a sitting position, the sheets falling around my hips.

Hands around my waist…

"Not so fast, baby," he rasped.

Kisses to my lower back… Warm breath washing over my skin.

"As fucking beautiful as the day we met," he mumbled, his hands sliding from my waist, between my thighs.

He was a liar.

"I was a mess that day," I laughed, but his fingers were deft and my breath caught in my throat and my hand found his thigh; still muscular, his blond hair peppered with silver.

"A beautiful mess," he amended, and I could feel his lips curling into a smile against the dimples over my ass. His fingers slipped and twirled and dipped.

"Ditto, Mr. Masen," I breathed and rolled over, playfully pinning Edward's shoulders to the bed. "But this morning we have houseguests, _young_ houseguests with good hearing."

"Are you ready for today?" he asked, cupping my face with his free hand.

I blinked back the tears, reality hitting home once again. "I have to be."

He pulled my face to his, kissed away the tears, and then his lips found mine. "Don't cry, B."

Long fingers behind my head, tangling with my messy morning hair… Stubble scratching against my cheeks as his lips parted…

Edward's hand skimmed along my collarbone, then dipped to cradle the swell of my breast, until his fingers found my nipple, pressing, pinching, pulling. He knew what that did to me. He knew it well and he had years of experience. He knew I'd be rendered nearly powerless to object. I shifted my hips just so, skimming along his length. I couldn't say this had never gotten old; _we'd_ gotten old… somewhat. But that spark and that warmth nearly always returned; and it was reassuring and exciting and there was nowhere else I'd rather be… no one else's arms I'd rather be encircled by…. no one else's lips, or scent, or scruffy jaw, or fingers, so skilled, so studied in my own personal anatomy.

I sighed and shifted my weight, settling myself over him, studying his long, lean muscles, his tangle of gold and silver chest hair… his eyes watching me. I caught my breath.

Edward grabbed my hips in his large hands and pulled as he lifted, meeting me, hitting me hard, guiding me… I gave in to the rhythm, losing myself to the anticipation. With his erection buried between my waiting lips, there was no hiding it. He'd convinced me; I wanted it too. The glimmer of a smile ghosted over his lips and his heavy-lidded eyes sparkled with self-confident desire.

"Make it quick, Mr. Masen," I whispered as I brought my lips to his ear, nipping, pressing, sucking. I slipped along his length until his head was poised at my entrance.

Suddenly Edward's hands gripped my hips even tighter, and in one fluid motion he lifted me off, so that my pussy was hovering over his cock. "So impatient, doctor," he chuckled. "Maybe this morning _I _want to takes things slow. You know, wait and shit."

It was one of his favorite jokes, one that never got old for Edward, even though it had almost been twenty years. I wiggled my hips, but he held me tight. "Give it back," I laughed, reaching for his cock, but Edward slid his body out from under me.

Left with no alternative, I ducked my head so that my hair fell forward and I tickled his face.

"I don't know what you mean," he laughed, thrashing his head and trying to avoid my hair. "Anyway, what about the houseguests?"

"Please?"

"Not until you tell me how much you want it," he laughed.

"Edward!"

I don't know if it was the hair tickling or my breasts hanging in his face, but Edward loosened his hold and pulled my waiting body against his before I could say anything else. His lips claimed my nipple and I wrapped my legs around him and picked up where we left off.

And I made sure to tell him what he wanted to hear, because after all these years it was still the undeniable truth. "I want you inside me, Edward."

I felt his chest rumble in response.

"But we can't spend all day fucking around. So, I want it quick and hard."

With one swift movement I was on my back and Edward was standing at the edge of the bed with my legs wrapped around his waist. Another thrust with a simultaneous pull on my hips and he was inside. I tried to muffle a strangled cry.

He didn't make it easy for me to stay quiet. He did what I asked, and over and over, harder, unrelenting, he drove the pace until my body was covered with sweat, until I thought I'd climb out of my skin, until my fingers grabbed hold of the sheets and my heels dug into his ass and I watched his knees begin to go weak. I knew from the way he moved his hips, from the gradual syncopation of his pace, from his eyes shut tight and the pressure in his fingertips. I knew him so well, I knew he was close, and I gave in, gave my body over, and let him take me, claim me, as I pushed him. "Harder," I gasped.

"Fuck," Edward groaned. His voice did it… and his cock, and his hands, and Edward fell forward, his hands landing on either side of my head, his hips hitting hard, landing on top of me, pushing his cock so deep as it pulsed. And body against body, his lips and teeth and tongue back so suddenly, having all of him I cried out and it was done. To. Fucking. Perfection.

Edward's body moved to cradle me. His hands wrapped around the back of my head, his lips nuzzled my neck; he held me close with his entire body. "What's tomorrow?" he asked lazily between kisses.

"Sunday?" I breathed with a smile, trying to catch my breath. I knew what he was asking, and he knew what day it was. Ness had been worried with the dates so close.

"Tomorrow I want to do this slowly," he requested, his eyes catching mine. "You and me and this big fucking bed, okay? Take our fucking time. We've earned it, don't you think?"

Our guests would be gone. Will was in town, but he'd sleep like a rock until two in the afternoon if we let him.

"That sounds perfect," I replied with a kiss to his nose. But my voice cracked. Lately, I couldn't stop myself from crying.

"B?" Edward's eyes burned into mine. He brushed the hair from my face, he touched the tip of his nose to mine. "Don't cry, baby."

"I can't help it," I sobbed, feeling silly.

His kiss was soft and gentle and he slid his arms around my waist. There was no greater comfort than his skin against mine, and I looked inordinately forward to tomorrow morning, wondering how I'd make it through today without the support I felt in this moment, in our bed.

"We've had twenty years, baby. And _our_ baby is getting married to a man she loves, so she can have what we have. Don't fucking cry, okay?"

But I couldn't help it, and tears trailed down my cheeks as he kissed me. I pulled him closer, knotting a hand in his hair, wrapping my legs around him, until our kisses became more passionate, until tongue joined lips, until I wanted to lose myself in him again.

We were both surprised to hear soft rapping at the bedroom door.

"Mom? Dad?"

"Ness?"

"Mom, are you -"

"Um, Ness, right now's not -" Edward began as he struggled to find the crumpled sheet to pull over us.

I was the one that found the sheet and Edward only managed to find a pillow, and Nessie was suddenly in the doorway, her face bright red before she turned away. "Oh my god! You could have locked the door!"

"But that would take all the fucking fun out of it," Edward laughed, pulling the sheet over him as well.

I smacked his arm playfully.

"Jesus, Bella. She's getting married. I think I can say fuck around her by now."

"Saying fuck around me and doing it are two different things," we heard Ness muttering as she ducked out of the room and closed the door behind her.

"At least this time she didn't ask if she could get naked too," Edward laughed.

I smacked his arm again, and he pulled me in for another kiss.


	2. Will's First Word

**EPOV**

It happened on a Saturday when Bella was at the office. Will was eating peas. He fucking loved peas. Mashed and gooey, he'd smear them all over his face and revel in it. He'd take big handfuls and squish them through his fisted fingers, then stick the whole ungodly mess in his mouth. He was in his fucking glory and it made my skin crawl.

"He likes it so much!" Ness cheered bouncing up and down on her seat. She ate her peanut butter and jelly in a much more acceptable manner. She ate with a napkin clutched in one of her hands. She'd wipe at Will and his tray when she thought I wasn't looking. Sometimes that shit troubled me, but it always warmed my heart just the same. Ness knew me through and through. I just hoped that my issues didn't leave a lasting imprint on my kids.

As if I could make up for my insanity in an instant, I leaned over and kissed first Ness and then Will on the forehead, braving the mess on his face. Will gurgled happily and started bobbing excitedly up and down in his seat.

"Goo! Plah! Dha!" he shouted.

"Settle down, son," I laughed, and I made the mistake of kissing him again. It was a mistake because it only got him more riled up. Will started waving his gummy hands wildly as he bounced and one came into contact with his plastic bowl of pea goop. It went sailing through the air and collided with the kitchen wall. Peas were sprayed everywhere. Ness held up her little napkin as if that would make it all magically disappear.

Will's big green eyes went wide. He waved his hands maniacally. "Fuh!" he huffed.

Ness's hand came over her mouth.

I strode across the kitchen to get cleaning supplies.

"Fuh! Fuh!" he cheered.

"Edward?" Ness asked.

"Fuh!"

Ness giggled.

"Fuh!" he yelled louder.

Ness's giggles turned to laughter.

"Fuh!" Will shouted, encouraged. By the time I turned around, armed with a spray bottle and wipes, Nessie was clutching her belly and had tears running down her face.

"Fuh!" Will yelled, whipping his hands over his tray and spraying pea droplets everywhere. He was beaming, proud, his big two-toothed smile lighting up the room. His eyes fell on me, poised to clean up his latest accomplishment.

"Dha! Fuh!" He sprayed more peas over the side. He looked between his mess and me, back to his mess, then back to me.

"Fuh!"

I placed the spray bottle on the table, kind of overcome with _fucking _pride, but feeling a little guilty all at the same time.

"Fuh?" Will asked and I felt a smile spread across my face. I mean, it was his first word. A big fucking accomplishment. I shouldn't discourage him. Right?

Will swiped more peas off the tray. "Fuh!" he pronounced proudly with a confident nod of his head. He was getting the hang of the word, already taking command of it. My _fucking _kid.

"Edward," Ness gasped, holding her sides. "Edward, I think Will said -"

"Will said something?"

All three of us simultaneously turned towards the sound of Bella's voice, followed quickly by the click of the front door closing.

"Oh no!" Ness hissed.

"Edward?" Bella called as her heels clicked quickly towards the kitchen. "Did Will say something?"

"Oh no!" Nessie laughed louder.

Will went back to pushing bits of pea goop off the sides of his tray.

"Say mama?" I pleaded with my son.

"Fhu Mha?" he asked.

"No! Just '_ma_'," I hissed urgently. "Mama."

"Mha mha," he gurgled looking at the peas.

"Wow," Nessie cooed. "He said, like, two words."

"Two words?" Bella burst through the kitchen door, then stopped in her tracks. "Oh my…What the heck happened in here?" she asked as her eyes took in the green splatter all over the room.

"Mha!" Will called, waving his pea-covered hands at Bella. "Mha… mha. Mhamha. Mama!"

"Oh my god," Bella cried, scooping up her goopy son and cradling him as I cringed. Her crisp white shirt was smudged gray-green and Will quickly had peas tangled in her hair.

Bella's eyes caught mine. "Mama?" she asked. "He just said mama. Right?"

"Um, yeah, well, not-" I began, but stopped when I felt a tug at the hem of my T-shirt.

"He did, mama," Ness cut in. "Mama. You were his first word."

"My sweet little baby boy," Bella cooed. "Let's get you cleaned up."

"Mamamamama!" Will cheered laying it on thick.

I looked down at Ness. She handed me the spray bottle and winked.


	3. One for the Mammary Books

**One for the Mammary Books**

**August 2011**

**BPOV**

I'd forgotten how much I hated pumping. The thing is, you need to relax for it to really work, but with my shirt open in my office and my boobs hooked up to a machine, even on a Saturday with the door locked, relaxation just wasn't happening for me. I had the pump on the highest setting, and the suction painstakingly pulled out just one drop at a time. It was frustrating and stressful, which made letdown all the more impossible.

I glanced down at my tits, pulled and pushed in and out, in and out, like some cow at a dairy farm. It was about the unsexiest-looking thing, ever, in my opinion. In the past eight weeks my breasts had changed so much, and my thoughts about my breasts changed too, so that ever since Will's birth I'd felt kind of weird about having Edward touch them. They just didn't seem like sexual objects at the moment; they were more like machines, or big food bags, or both, I guess.

_Drip… drop… drip… drop… drip… swish, clink, swish clink._

I sighed and tried to concentrate on the malpractice paperwork I'd been reviewing, but I was completely distracted by my milk flow, or lack thereof. It'd been at it for ten minutes and I hadn't even pumped two ounces.

I know Will wasn't starving; he was huge. I'd been back at work for two weeks, and every day when I got home from the office, Will and I would settle in for about forty-five straight minutes of feeding, like he was making up for lost time.

Edward would snuggle up next to next to the both of us and he'd play with Will's chubby little feet, dying for a chance to hang out with his son. He was more than a little jealous of us both: jealous of my time with Will, and jealous of Will's time with my boobs. "I think he's a breast man," Edward would tease as Will held on tight to one of my tits and sucked intently.

"Just like his daddy," I'd laugh as Edward's eyes would settle on my boob, or Will's face. It was kind of hard to tell which. "I knew I should have made you a mammary book," I'd tease.

_Drip, drip, drip, swish, clink, swish, clink, drip, drip, drip, drip…_

Well, that was an improvement. The drips from my left boob had become, well, _almost_ a little stream. Was it because I was thinking about Edward looking at my breasts?

Honestly, when we were alone and I was topless it made me somewhat nervous. I still disagreed with Edward's OCD diagnosis, but OCD or not, he definitely had a neat streak. He dealt with his share of poop and vomit like a true champ, though, and he even laughed about it. But later, sometimes, I'd catch him with a spray bottle and a scouring pad. So I was worried about the boobs. They may have held back for the pump, but generally they were a leaky, milky mess.

Drip… drip… drip… drip… dri - _nothing_

My boobs were rebelling. "I'm sorry, you're not a big mess," I mumbled, staring down at them. "You make my son's food. Please make my son's food. Please?"

My son. Sometimes I still couldn't believe it. We both couldn't. I'd catch Edward gazing down at Will like he'd just spotted a rainbow, a pot of gold and a unicorn. "Hey, peanut," he'd murmur, awestruck. It was the most beautiful and the silliest sight, because Will was built like a linebacker, just like his uncle Emmett. He was the biggest, chubbiest peanut in the history of peanuts.

I picked up the framed photo of my family that I'd brought with me when I returned to work two weeks ago. The picture had been taken minutes after Will's birth. While Nessie and I were in the shot, Edward and Will were the stars of this photo. Will was wet and new and his eyes had just opened for the first time. Edward was all enraptured and nervous; his arms were at awkward angles since he was completely inexperienced at holding an infant. He was also completely in love, looking into a pair of his own eyes. Gazing at his son.

Will was born in the quiet morning hours just before dawn. Ness was in the room with us, and Esme was there so that she could keep an eye on Ness. Edward was there too, of course.

I'd wanted to do it differently the second time around. When Nessie was born, I'd felt so out of control, and everything was a dire emergency because she came so early. The entire experience was bright and loud and frightening. I know, I know, I'd been in my last year of med school at the time and it should have been like second nature to be in that environment, but having something ripped out of me like that was traumatic. When Edward told me how he felt about hospitals, the decision practically made itself.

Will was born at home with a midwife, and the lighting was dim, and Edward held me and pressed on my back during contractions. Thinking back to the sequence of events, it's all kind of a blur, but there were warm compresses, and humming, and rocking, and quiet sighs, and the two of us in the shower. I was in Edward's arms, where I belonged, holding, kissing, loving.

Then, quite suddenly, we were in the birth tub. I don't remember what Edward said to me at that point, there were so many words murmured, words of love and devotion and encouragement – but I remember his eyes, glimmering and green over the edge of the tub, calm and insistent and full of faith. Nessie held my hand until I nearly crushed her fingers.

When the midwife told me to reach down and feel my baby, I did. I felt his hair, and when I touched his scalp... "He moved!" I exclaimed, amazed. With that Edward hopped into the tub with me. We hadn't planned that at all. I never thought that he'd want to jump into that warm bath filled cervical mucous and bits of blood, and when we talked about the birth plan he'd never asked to be in there with me either.

But there he was, next to me with this enraptured smile on his face. Very tentatively, he reached down and felt Will's head too, our fingers tangled with our son's hair and I let out the last of the tension I'd been holding inside. Edward held me tenderly as I yelped and groaned with each contraction, and he held me as I pushed. He held me until I told him to stop because I needed to concentrate. Even then, though, Edward's fingers combed through my hair. He couldn't stay away.

Somewhere on the periphery of my consciousness I heard Nessie ask for her bathing suit, and Esme replying with a stern 'no'. Little feet stomped loudly away, beating against the floorboards at the same time that I felt a beach ball pushing its way out of my ass. I knew it was time, and of all things, I screamed Nessie's name as I became completely consumed with pain and pressure and the need to make it end. Nessie had wanted to be there for the birth so much, and I knew she'd regret it if she missed it because of a tantrum.

Edward was the first person to hold our son's head, and then, after those broad shoulders passed out of me, he held his body too.

Wriggly, blue-pink, perfect. William Masen. Will for short.

Before I knew it, he was in my arms, and he was so big; he looked about twice the size of Nessie when she was born. I was elated, and Will latched on right away, and neither Edward or Nessie could look away. They were both transfixed - in love. The little boy opened his eyes and I gasped and I cried, because I saw Edward in there, and my heart grew to hold Will too.

Nessie kissed Will's head and cooed, and tried her best to hug Edward and I without getting soaked. Edward was resting against the wall of the tub, his eyes wet, looking at me like I was the eighth wonder of the world and superwoman all rolled into one; looking at his son like he was terrified and over the moon.

"Do you want to hold him?" I asked, after Will was done sucking on my breast.

Then Edward looked at me like I was insane. But he took a deep breath and he did it - all arms and hands, and angles and overdone cradling of the head. And love.

"Skin to skin contact is best," the midwife reminded him as she took Will's pulse and listened his heart with her stethoscope, and her assistant snapped the photo that I was holding in my hands today.

"You did it, Edward," Nessie said, rubbing his shoulders in a mini massage.

This time I was the one that was incredulous and I cleared my throat in exasperation. What had Edward done, exactly? _I _was the woman that just pushed a ten-pound peanut out of my vagina.

"You're a daddy in two ways now. That's so cool," Ness murmured wrapping her arms around Edward's neck to give him a hug.

Okay, Edward _did_ do that. And that meant more to me than anything in the world.

"No, your mama did it all, Little Bell," Edward whispered. "She gave me the both of you." He couldn't look away from his son. The resemblance, even at ten-minutes old, was remarkable.

"My peanut," he murmured.

"He's more like a watermelon," I cooed. "The cutest watermelon ever." I kissed Will's foot, then Edward's cheek. My husband turned his head, and his lips found mine, taking my breath away, until Ness spoke up again.

"He not a peanut _or_ a watermelon, mama and Ewoord. He's a little _boy_. I know it 'cause I can see his penis."

xXxXx

_Drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, clink, swish, clink, swish_

I traced the outline of Edward and Will in the picture I was holding in my hands. Edward held his new baby boy with his fingers splayed wide, like he was trying to grasp as much of the little body as possible. His nails were bitten to the nubs. His fingers were so long, his hands so large. I loved his hands. They were useful in so many ways.

_Dripdripdripdripdrip, dropdropdropdropdropdrop, clink, swish, clink, swish_

Edward's hands… I traced his fingers with mine. My nipples tingled and I rubbed my thighs together.

I liked those fingers on my hips, on my ass, parting my cheeks, teasing me as they ran in between, lower, circling, pressing against that spot … I liked when his fingers were followed by his lips and by his tongue.

I wriggled in my seat, suddenly feeling a little differently about being so exposed in an empty office, and I'll admit it, I hitched up my skirt.

My mind ranged back to one night months and months before Will was born… Edward had me on my hands and knees in our new big bed. He was behind me, two fingers deep inside, twisting, arching, stretching, rubbing, pressing. He spread my legs wider and fit his body between them, his dick pressed between my ass cheeks, his free hand reaching around, pulling at my hardened nipple. I panted, my entire body strung like a live wire, waiting for him to pull his fingers out and plunge his dick inside.

But with an unexpected twist, both literal and figurative, his dick was gone and his fingers twirled, and suddenly Edward was lying on his back with his head between my legs, using those fingers hooked inside me to pull my pussy towards him. Before I could catch my breath and figure out exactly what was going on, his mouth claimed my clit, sucking licking, grazing with his teeth, until my legs were shaking and my nipples were tingling without even being touched. I couldn't help it; I started grinding against Edward's mouth, trying to push his fingers in deeper, angling, aching, overwhelmed, coming, _hard_. My whole body was pulsing, until my limbs gave out and I fell on top of Edward, gasping and laughing.

Afterwards, his hands held my ass as I sank onto him and rode him, and later, after he was spent, his hands tangled in my hair as we kissed with limbs entwined, sated and at peace.

Usually, though, when he was behind me, he'd reach around and grab a tit in each of his hands, and he'd lift me until my back was flush with his chest. And he'd fuck me as his hands clenched my breasts, with his mouth at my throat, at my ear, telling me how much he wanted me, how much he loved me, how fucking sexy I was.

xXxXx

Back in the office, my legs were parted, my fingers were teasing and my panties were wetter than they'd been at any point since Will was born. Milk was pouring into the storage containers, which at this point were practically full. I was a little ashamed, and somewhat proud, and gasping for air, and right on the brink. I pushed my panties aside, determined to make this happen, because it had been way too long.

There might have been wind chimes tinkling in the distance, maybe the click of a door closing, and perhaps footsteps in the hallway. There was definitely rapid knocking on my office door. I jumped.

"Bella?"

"Edward!"

Between the breast pump, my shaky fingers and my wet panties, not to mention the things Edward's voice was suddenly doing to my body for the first time since I gave birth, I was entirely at a loss as to what to do.

"Hang on, babe," I stammered as I rushed to unhook my boobs and slide them into my bra. I was still buttoning my shirt as I opened the door for Edward. His eyes quickly slid from my flushed face to stare at what my hands were up to between my tits. They faltered under his scrutiny, and I found that I had to actually look down at the buttons to make my fingers work like they should.

Edward chuckled, taking a quick look around my office, and he nodded when he spotted the breast pump. "Oh, well, that explains things."

My cheeks burned, because pumping wasn't all that I'd been doing, and because I hadn't come yet, and because I was right on the edge. So close. I couldn't help but gaze at my husband's hands and press my thighs together. Yep, really, really close.

"Bella? Baby?" Edward laughed, taking my face in his hand.

I sighed and closed my eyes. "Right. I was… pumping. I thought you were at work."

"Fucking contractors," he grumbled. "I couldn't get anything done. So I came to find you, instead."

In my head Edward said that he came to 'do me' instead. Maybe he had. Maybe he just didn't know it yet.

"_Fuck_ing contractors," I breathed and I gazed up at my husband, my hands still poised between my breasts. Edward bit his lip and his Adam's apple bobbed. I knew what it did to him to hear me say 'fuck'.

I took a step closer to my husband, testing the waters. The sliver of space between us practically sizzled. I leaned against the doorjamb and languidly, lazily took him in. He had on those low-slung jeans that I loved, and a well-worn U Penn T-shirt with holes that gave glimpses of his strong pecs and golden chest hair. He had about twenty-four hours of stubble on his jaw that I was suddenly dying to feel rubbing between my thighs. I was so close, so_ very_ close.

"Fuck," I murmured again. The sentiment was genuine this time. My husband was crazy hot.

The desire in Edward's piercing, green eyes was unmistakable. But he held back, unsure. The few times we'd had sex since Will was born had been rushed and perfunctory, and for the first time in our relationship, lube had been a must. Between my hormones, both of our jobs, a breast-feeding infant, and a little girl that lived to catch Edward and I sleeping together in our big bed, things just weren't like they used to be.

"Bella?" he asked. One word, just my name, but I knew what he was wondering. His eyes strayed to my desktop. We'd made out there once and only once, and I'd almost lost my medical license over it.

"Ness and Will?" I asked.

"With Esme," he murmured, placing his hands over mine, licking his lips. "You know… you don't have to button your shirt on my account."

This time my hands were extremely deft as they undid their recent work. I happened to be wearing my fancy, black-lace nursing bra. It was pure luck that I wasn't wearing one of the ones that looked more like a bandage.

"I love your tits," Edward murmured as his fingertips very tentatively traced along the edges of my cleavage. There was a lot of it these days and he took his time. Edward glanced at me, and I was struck by how nervous he was, unsure how I would react to his touch. I couldn't blame him, but now, I needed him. I needed to feel the size and strength of his hands, and I arched my back, and pressed my chest into his hesitant palms.

"Fuck," he mumbled, his lips suddenly moving over my jaw, nipping at my earlobe, as he felt me up over my bra. "Jesus, B."

I raked my nails lightly over Edward's chest and then wrapped my arms around him until my hands settled over his ass and my hips could grind against his. I could feel how much he wanted me as well, and I was practically giddy. I couldn't remember the last time we'd had sex in the middle of the day, not to mention somewhere besides the bedroom, and we'd never, ever done it in my office.

Edward rolled his hips and his cock dug into my belly, begging for my attention. Even now, almost a year after I'd seen his dick for the first time, I was still impressed. It still made me salivate. Hell, I was even a little proud. His penis and I had a history; it had been lust at first sight. I slipped my hand from his ass and began exploring his erection - running my hand over his width, along his length, finding his head.

"Is that a little rock on your pocket, Mr. Masen?" I whispered in my best faux-sexy voice, teasing with both my words and my fingers.

"There's nothing little about it, B," he chuckled in that throaty voice he used when he was really turned on, and he thrust into my hand to demonstrate. I'll admit it; I shuddered, head to toe. It took quite a bit of willpower not to drop my panties on the spot. But this was too much fun, too rare an opportunity, and I wanted to make it last.

"What about your_ little_ vagina?" I teased as my hand drifted from his shaft to his ballsack.

"As a physician, you should know that's not the proper technique for a testicular exam," Edward rasped. He looked me in the eye, pretending to be dead serious, but I could see the effort it was taking. Edward loved when I played with his balls. It was something about the difference in sensations between the prosthesis and the real one. He'd tried to explain it before, but it was beyond words a little bit. It just drove him crazy, which, I guess, is how we met: My hands, his balls, his erection, my desire. There'd been no going back after that, no matter how much the two of us had tried.

"My testicular exams are legendary, Mr. Masen. You should have one," I purred. He wasn't wearing a belt. His top button came easily undone.

"Because of you, I've had to hire some old man to feel up my balls on a regular basis."

"I bet the old man doesn't do it topless," I said, shrugging my blouse off of my shoulders. Edward ran his fingers down my arms, helping to push away the soft cotton fabric.

"Thank the fuck not," he murmured as his eyes danced over my chest.

The pads of my bra were damp with milk, but I pushed that thought aside as I took Edward's hand and led him across the hall to the lab where we'd first met, where I'd first seen him naked, where he'd gotten hard for me for the first time, and where my ethics had waged a valiant battle with my libido.

That battle was over long ago. My libido hadn't taken any prisoners; my ethics hadn't stood a chance. And while it may have gone into hiding for a little while, my libido was back. I wanted my husband inside me, desperately.

"I haven't had you in here in a year, Mr. Masen. It's been too long," I playfully reminded him as we walked into the lab. Edward's hand slid over my ass, but I batted it away as I pulled a large cotton gown out of the storage cabinet.

"Keep the gown open to the back, Mr. Masen. Everything else comes off," I instructed as I sauntered out of the room and closed the door behind me.

Back in my office, I didn't give myself time to think about what I was doing, because I knew there was a chance I'd back out. It was Saturday and no one else was at work, not to mention that Edward was my husband, not my patient. But it still felt wrong, which in a very wrong way, made me want it even more.

I quickly stored the breast milk in the refrigerator in the break room and rushed back to my office. I shimmied out of my skirt only to realize that I was wearing ugly cotton panties. Well, there was a solution for that. The panties came off too. It felt strange standing there completely naked, only wearing a bra. So, despite my reservations, I took a deep breath, undid the clasp, and added the bra to my growing pile of discarded clothes. I threaded my arms through my lab coat, leaving a couple buttons strategically undone. The hem of the coat brushed just below my ass cheeks, and I knew that when I bent over it would leave nothing to the imagination

I hooked my stethoscope around my neck, pulled my hair of out its ponytail and was about to run across the hall, when I caught sight of my feet. Purple ballet flats didn't exactly go with my ensemble. I rifled through my office closet and came out with a pare of heels that I'd thought I could get away with wearing to work when I was six months pregnant. I hadn't lasted an hour in them, though, and they'd been in the back of the closet ever since. I slipped my feet into the patent leather pumps and stepped back and surveyed myself in the mirror. With my big boobs and bare legs, I was completely thrown by my reflection. I was pretty sure I'd seen just about the same look in a porn Edward and I watched once. I couldn't help but smile as I applied coat of pink lip gloss and picked up a clipboard. I was set.

Just like the first day we met, Edward cleared his throat after I knocked on the door to the lab. And just like that first day, I felt pinpricks of electricity ignite on the surface of my skin.

I played my part and kept my eyes on the empty clipboard as I walked into the lab. My boobs may have been jutting out a little more than usual. I may have stood by the front door with my legs parted a little more than they needed to be.

"You're not Carlisle," Edward chuckled, playing along.

His voice still slid over my skin like it was made of more than breath, managing to touch me in all of my secret places. If I wasn't careful, I was going to come just standing there. I wondered if he noticed that my inner thighs were wet.

"No, Dr. Cullen is partially retired, Mr. Masen, and he sold his practice to me. I'm your new doctor, Dr. Swa -"

This was my cue. I glanced up from the chart, and there he was. My husband, Edward Masen. He was leaning back in the lab chair, his eyes surveying me hungrily, sporting an erection that I could have easily spotted from an airplane cruising at twenty thousand feet.

"Do you like what you see, Dr. _Swa_?" he laughed.

The fucker. He'd been just as cocky that first day. He knew from the very beginning what he could do to me. Well, two could play at that game.

"Excuse me, Mr… Mr…." I glanced down at the clipboard in my hand, pretending to forget his name. "Oh, right. Mr. Masen. My name is Dr. Swa-_n, _Mr. Masen. You'll have to excuse my attire. You were a last minute addition to the schedule. I didn't have time to… put on panties." I trailed my fingers from my thigh up under the hem of my lab coat.

"Seems only fair," Edward rasped, his hand drifting to his dick, smiling wickedly. I'll admit it: it was damn hard not to launch myself across the room.

"What brings you in today?" I asked. My hand kept moving. So did his.

He glanced at his erection and back at me. "I think it's fucking obvious, Dr. Swan."

I salivated and swallowed so that I wouldn't actually drool. A year ago I hadn't known it was possible to feel something like this for a husband, for the father of my children. I didn't know love could be so overwhelming. I'd wanted him from the moment I first saw him, but Edward was so much more than jaw-droppingly sexy. He was strong, and caring, and protective, and supportive… and hot. Jaw-droppingly sexy, hot. God, I wanted him.

I swallowed again, pulled myself together and took three long strides across the room to the sink. I purposefully stood away from the countertop so that I had to bend over to reach the faucet to wash my hands. The shock of the cool, re-circulated office air on my wet pussy let me know that I'd bent over just enough.

I heard the lab chair squeak as Edward shifted where he sat.

I didn't dry my hands with a paper towel. Instead, I turned around and very purposefully wiped them on my lab coat - right over my tits, slowly, thoroughly, not stopping until the wet cotton was plastered to my breasts. I struggled to keep a straight face, but with one glance I noticed that Edward didn't give a shit about my facial expressions. He only had eyes for my tits as he stood to his feet.

"This should only take a minute, Mr. Masen," I said as I walked slowly over to him. My tits rubbed against the wet cotton with each step, my thighs rubbed together as I walked, wetter with each step.

"Watch yourself, Dr. Swan. Any more teasing and it'll be the fucking truth. Maybe more like thirty seconds."

"Lift your gown, Mr. Masen."

Edward decided to peel his gown off and drop it to the floor, instead. I can't say that I minded. Neither did my tits. I felt warm milk trickling over the underside of my boobs, towards my ribs. "I don't have to hold my dick out of the way this time, Dr. Swan," Edward said as he languidly stroked his cock.

"So efficient, Mr. Masen. Now your hands are free to hold… other things."

Edward's cock was fucking fine: big, hefty, rock-solid. It was the kind of thing that inspired women to lick, to fall to their knees and worship. But I was playing a role, and in this scenario, his balls needed my attention. Immediately. Without any more hesitation, I cupped them in my hand, exploring, rolling, tugging, rougher and more sexual than I ever would have attempted with a patient.

Edward hissed and gripped the countertop for support.

"See, it's lucky you had a free hand Mr. Masen," I teased. He grabbed my bare ass with his other free hand, demonstrating yet another advantage to having a hard cock during a testicular exam.

I knew it wasn't necessary, but I felt for the small blemish on the smooth surface of Edward's left testicle. After all, it was the reason we met. I owed my life to that little bump. It was there, the same as always, and satisfied that all was right in the world I slipped my fingers farther back, over his perineum, stroking, pressing, back, back, until it was poised at his entrance.

"Christ, B," Edward hissed. His knuckles grew white.

"Prostate exam?" I asked.

"Not fucking likely," he said as his finger slipped between my ass cheeks, mirroring my actions.

"What next? Should I draw your blood?" I asked, scraping my nails over the crease of his arm.

"Only if you take off that coat and straddle me while you do it," Edward replied, pressing a little more insistently over my back entrance.

"Done," I hissed, and Edward let me push him down into the lab chair.

"You'd like a naked blood draw?" I asked, as I very slowly began to unbutton my coat, starting from the bottom.

"Fucking hell, Doctor," Edward growled.

"That's very kinky," Mr. Masen I cooed as I continued my lab coat strip tease, uncovering my belly, and then finally freeing my breasts. My coat dropped behind me, and I was standing in front of Edward wearing only a stethoscope and heels.

"You're very wet, Doctor," Edward observed. And I was: my breasts, my thighs, my pussy. I placed a knee on either side of his thighs, and his hands ran upwards until they grazed me, right there, over and over, very lightly.

"Sopping fucking wet," he hummed, pleased. I hadn't been wet like that since before Will was born. "You're fucking beautiful, doc. I'm fucking flattered that I can still make someone as sexy as you so wet. Wet everywhere." And with that he ran a thumb over my nipple, smearing breast milk, palming my boob, practically purring.

My body stiffened. "You don't mind?" I asked.

"Are you fucking kidding? Your whole body wants me."

"You have no idea how much," I giggled nervously.

"Are you fucking kidding, B? I've fucking wanted this, you…" he pinched my nipple, milk trickled over his fingers, and I gasped, surprised how good the pressure felt. "This version of you. Do you have any idea how fucking sexy you are, how fucking powerful, how fucking impressive…" He pinched my nipple again, and I couldn't help but whimper.

Inspired, I pinched my other nipple, releasing a little milk, and I massaged it into my breast. Edward couldn't look away. After my breast was shiny and wet, I brought my fingers to my lips, but Edward caught them in his hands.

"Let me?" he asked, his eyes meeting mine. This time I was the one that couldn't look away as he took my fingers between his lips and licked and sucked them clean.

Edward hummed and his chest vibrated, and I slipped my pussy against his waiting dick, rocking and rubbing, until with a little twist and a hitch I was lined up just right. I couldn't hold myself back for another second. I sank onto Edward's waiting erection and his entire cock disappeared inside in one swift stroke. Edward hissed and my hand dropped from his lips and his hips rose to meet mine.

It wasn't soft and slow; I didn't take my time. I bucked and ground my hips, angling, up and down, pounding, over and over, as hard as I could. Edward thrust his hips, meeting me, matching my frantic rhythm, his mouth clamped over my breast, a thumb finding its way to my asshole, and another hand knotted in my hair, holding me against him.

With the pumping and the masturbating and the daydreaming, I'd been so primed that I was the one that could hardly last a minute. Before long, I was moaning and bucking erratically. It felt _so_ good, better than it had in so long.

Our thighs were wet and slippery, and so was my free breast, and my ribs, and Edward's shoulder where my nipple had been rubbing while I rode him. And that's when it hit home, that's when I completely understood, and I took another look at Edward's mouth clamped securely over my breast. That's when his tongue lapping at the tip of my tit registered, and I gasped, and he bucked so his cock hit me in just the right spot. Again, and again, and he sucked harder each time.

"Holy crap," I murmured, closer, so much closer.

"Baby?" he rasped, letting go of my tit, and I crashed my lips into his. I could taste myself on his lips, in his mouth: salty, sweet, tangy, and that did it. I slammed down hard, once, twice, three times, and my entire body pulsed and tightened around him. My arms, my thighs, my legs, my pussy. Pulsing. Pulsing. Milk spilling the whole time.

xXxXx

When I opened my eyes I saw all too clearly that Edward and I were sticky and wet and naked, breathless with tangled limbs, on the chair in the lab. I giggled, and Edward smiled up at me, satisfied, happy. He pushed the hair from my face and placed a soft kiss on my lips. His phone started ringing from its perch on top of his neatly folded pile of clothes.

"That's probably the contractor," Edward said, combing his fingers through my hair.

"And I should probably get back to that enormous pile on my desk."

"Esme's making baked tofu for dinner."

"Rose is coming over, since Em has an away game today."

Edward's eyes caught mine, and they were gleaming and bright. "I fucking love you, Bella. From the first time I met you."

"From here? Really?"

"I used to think that I fell in love later. But, no. If I knew what the hell I was feeling, I would have known it then. I've always loved you."

"I didn't know," I agreed. "I didn't know that it could be like this."

"Me either, B."

He kissed me, again and held me close. And the second time it was soft, sure, steady, his eyes on mine, his lips so soft, his teeth tender as he pulled my earlobe between them, his fingertips ghosting over my skin. The only sounds were our sighs and soft moans, and the subtle smack of wet skin as my pussy slapped against his body and my breasts hit his chest, as I tilted my hips so that his cock hit me just right, over and over and over.

"Christ, B, you're so fucking sexy," he hissed as his hand slid over my wet nipple. And I believed him, and I moved so that his lips had easy access, and he grinned before his mouth claimed me again.


	4. Will's Will, Part I

**Labor Day Weekend, 2026**

* * *

This would be our family's first Labor Day at the shore without Carlisle. My uncle passed away three months ago at night in his sleep, by his wife's side. Esme was stronger than I could have ever been had I found myself in that same situation, waking to find Bella lying next to me, lifeless. I wondered how my aunt was able to leave her room, let alone take charge of her husband's memorial service and funeral. I admired her infinitely as she stood tall, in command of every detail as Carlisle was laid to rest. I watched as she took obvious comfort in her grandchildren, searching out little pieces of her husband in their faces and mannerisms, or in the serious way they'd listen as she told stories about their grandfather when he was a young man.

Sometimes, though, I'd drop by Esme's home to find her standing alone with tears in her eyes, looking lost and alone, unsure how to proceed with something as simple as a pot of tea. I did what I could; I held her hands and hugged her and told her that her love would get her through – just like she told me so many years ago, in another life, after Jake died and Bella fell apart.

She'd smile bravely. Sometimes her shoulders shook as she cried.

"Whatever you need, Esme," I murmured one afternoon.

"You've given me more than I ever hoped, Edward."

"You too, Esme. You gave me a mother."

She cried harder and held onto me tight, and I hesitated to let her go. Esme and I weren't related by blood, but what I'd said was true; she'd been a mother to me, and a good one, at that. If I'd learned anything over these past sixteen years, it was that blood didn't dictate family ties. My own daughter taught me that lesson when she was just four years old, right after we first met.

Anyway, three months later Esme was back to her rotary clubs and historical societies and Mayflower Descendants meetings, albeit a little sadder around the edges. She'd be down at the beach house in the morning, along with Emmett, Rosalie and their brood. Alice and J were flying in the following evening with their two little ones in tow. Ness had squeezed out a spare day to drive down from Princeton, even though it was the start of her junior year at school.

Labor Day with The Cullen Clan was an event we hadn't missed once in the past sixteen years. Thank fuck they'd never been quite as eventful as that first holiday we'd all spent together. They'd never been quite as special as the second Labor Day gathering, either. Will was an infant that year, Bella and I were just married, and Ness was still alternating between calling me Ewoord and Mydaddy Ina Takesalongtimeway. Emmett and Rosalie had saved that weekend to announce that Rose was expecting, and J and Alice were finally on solid footing in their relationship. Everyone seemed ridiculously content that year. After a lifetime without one, I'd finally found a family, and a happy one at that.

Tonight, though, it was just the three of us for dinner: Bella, Will and me. Will was miserable, for no other fucking reason than misery was his adolescent style. He wore it well; Bella and I both saw the way the girls on the beach looked at our son as they walked past him giggling. However, Will held onto insecurity and antagonism in equal fucking measure, so he missed their puppy-dog eyes. And anyway, he was preoccupied that summer, hating his father.

We were just finishing our meal when Will's phone made some god-awful comic book laughter noise in his pocket and he jumped up from the dinner table.

"Will?" I asked, gritting my teeth.

"I'm done, dad," he huffed back, scraping his chair against the floorboards.

"Done, but not excused," I answered wondering when the hell I'd started channeling Carlisle.

"Then, _excuse_ me," Will said with a roll of his eyes, before striding towards the front porch, mumbling into the phone, making furtive, teenaged plans for the evening while hiding behind his hair like his mother always tried to do.

"Did you hear that shit?" I asked Bella, once again annoyed beyond measure. "How many times have I said that phones have to be off at the dinner table?"

When I glanced at Bella, though, she was far from agitated. Instead, she had this little grin on her face and her eyes were actually twinkling. I knew that look. She raised her eyebrows and her toes ran up my calf.

"B," I grumbled, shaking me head and nodding towards Will.

"When was the last time we were alone here, Edward? Just you and me? You two have plenty of time to antagonize one another."

Her foot reached my knee and Bella licked her lips, but overt seduction was never her thing. One glance at my face and she broke down and giggled and her toes trembled against the inside of my knee. Seeing her laugh, the little crinkles around her eyes, the way her body shook and her hair fell in her face as she cracked herself up, that's what did it for me. She could have asked me just about anything in moments like that. Asking me to put aside my annoyance with my son and spend some one-on-one time together, well it wasn't too much of a fucking sacrifice.

Especially because I had a pretty good idea what she had in mind.

The outdoor shower had stood like an unused monument this entire summer. Growing up, Alice and Emmett avoided it like the plague, forever afraid of catching their father parading around nude. This summer had been no different, despite Carlisle's absence. Esme couldn't bring herself to look at it these days, let alone actually step into the stall.

But for Bella and I, that old, rickety thing held something of a special significance. We'd shared our first kiss there, and I'm pretty fucking sure the air was still charged from that encounter. In all fucking honestly, it was a lot more than a kiss. If it weren't for Ness' interruption, I don't think anything else could have stopped me after finding Bella naked, wet and willing. I'd never have had the strength to walk away.

"We'll just clear up here, then?" Bella asked, leaning across the table as she picked up my plate, letting her lips linger at the corner of my mouth.

I couldn't help but smile. Bella knew I'd never be able to give her my full attention with a pile of dirty dishes in the sink and the threat of crumbs on the table. In some ways, she dealt with my insanity better than I did. She was fucking amazing, and tolerant, and still as beautiful as fuck.

I knotted my hands in her hair, holding her face to mine as I gave her a real kiss. Bella sighed against my lips and I felt the rise and fall of her chest, and I suddenly couldn't wait to get my hands on her tits, on her hips, on her ass. With her lips against mine, it was suddenly like I was sixteen again, or thirty-two, or what the fuck ever age. Nearly fifty. I was nearly fucking fifty years old. I'd never thought I'd live this long, and here I was, so fucking alive. I held Bella closer and deepened the kiss. It was all because of her. I hadn't really lived a single day after my mother died, not until I met her.

I heard Will making a break for the stairs, but he didn't have to worry; he was suddenly the last thing on my mind. I was counting the hours before his curfew, ticking through a list that I'd kept at the back of my brain for, I don't know, the past sixteen years or so. There was the shower, of course, and then there were those bunk beds in the room where Bella and I had spent our first night together listening to my cousins fuck. Afterwards, I was hoping for some time in that chair on the porch with Bella in my lap. She'd drink a beer, I'd settle for the feel of her on top of me. Come to think of it, I'd always been curious about this big ass dining room table we were leaning over, too.

Bella pulled away just as I was going for the top button of her blouse.

"Let's not get sidetracked in the dining room," she laughed.

"I was just thinking I wouldn't mind that at all." I gestured to the long expanse of unused table.

"Edward!" Bella swatted at my chest.

"After the kid's gone," I explained.

"Well, he's not gone, yet."

Bella stacked some plates and made her way to the kitchen. I followed with the rest of the dinnerware, intent on trapping her slim little body between me and the counter as I reached past her to settle everything into the sink. As soon as my hands were free, I brushed her hair out of the way and let me lips do the convincing about the dining room table. No words were necessary.

There was that little hollow behind her ear where she liked to feel my tongue, and her earlobe – just the tiniest bite, and the corner of her jaw where I'd brush my lips, and her bare shoulder after I slipped the collar of her top out of the way. Meanwhile, my hands found their way under her blouse and managed to pull her bra from her tits. Bella arched her back, pushing her breasts into my hands, and she tilted her head, giving me better access to her neck.

"Who was Will talking to?" she gasped.

"Fuck knows," I mumbled, teasing her nipples, pressing my dick against her ass, and feeling the way her body still fit with mine.

"Do you... want… to…" Bella began asking, as she swiveled in my arms so that she was facing me. She smiled, her eyes twinkled, and her damp hands ran over my chest. My hands ran over her chest too; I pulled her top higher, and went for her tits with my mouth.

"Yes, I fucking want to. On the table. As soon as we're alone," I breathed against her chest.

"Go for a run? On the table?"

I bit my lip. "A fucking run, B? You want time alone… to run together?"

I straightened up so I could look into her eyes, but I kept my hands where they were. Bella was blushing like she'd just suggested anal or something.

"To the lighthouse, maybe?" she asked hopefully. " Like that first time I came here with you. You said you needed to run with me or you'd explode."

"I said I'd _fucking_ explode, to be precise. And that's just because I couldn't get you into bed." I pinched her tight little nipples to make my point.

"After a run though, you're always kind of happy and high… and sweaty. And kind of hot," she giggled. Her thigh rubbed my crotch. She silently mouthed 'hot' and pressed her tits into my hands.

I couldn't keep the smile off my face. Bella was fucking adorable. "I get hot when I run? You think you're fucking funny?" I asked.

"You know I am. Let's get sweaty, then we'll shower."

I bent my head so that my lips brushed against her ear. "Fuck the shower, I'll bring you back to that fucking table and lick the sweat off you."

She may have whimpered, just a little.

"I'm going to hold you to that," she breathed.

Upstairs a door slammed so hard, the house fucking shook. I rested my forehead on top of Bella's head and sighed. I'd told the kid a million fucking times not to slam doors, especially doors of one hundred and fifty fucking year old homes.

I righted Bella's bra, pulled her top over her tits and rested my hands on her hips as Will clomped down the stairs.

"Hey, mom, I'm gonna go check out this movie thing at Dave's house. Okay?"

"What movie thing?" I asked my son, bracing myself to keep calm, but seriously, I was right there in the fucking room. He could at least have the decency to address me as well.

Bella tilted her head back and gave me a warning glance. I knew _that _fucking look, too. She was certain I was too hard on Will.

"That's fine, Will," Bella said with her eyes fixed on mine. "Just be home by -"

"Eleven, mom. I know. My curfew's been the same for, like, over a year."

"With an attitude like that it's not going to change for,_ like_, another year," I warned.

"Whatever," he mumbled. "See you later, _mom_."

I let go of Bella and spun around in time to see Will leaving through the front door.

"Edward," Bella warned, placing her hand reassuringly on my shoulder, trying to root me to the spot.

"He's been fucking testing me these past couple weeks, B."

"These past couple _weeks_?" Bella laughed, like there was something funny about the fact that my son and I didn't get along… Like that fact didn't fill me with fucking dread at night... Like all of my fears about having a child weren't haunting me with every snide remark and every evil look he gave me.

"Will isn't you, Edward. And you're not your father."

I tried not to think that I was fucking doomed; that I'd had a shit for a father, so I'd inevitably _be_ a shit of a father - that I'd push Will away, push him to rebel and do something stupid.

"I know, B. He just -"

"Presses your buttons?" she asked.

"Among other things." I folded my arms across my chest and leaned back against the counter, close enough to Bella so that we were nearly touching. Bella wrapped her arm around my waist and leaned her head against my shoulder.

"We're alone, Edward. How about you let me press your buttons… among other things?"

I sighed. "I thought we were going for a run."

"And afterwards… button pushing," Bella said as she eyed my crotch.

"It a little bigger than a fucking button, B," I laughed.

"Mine's not," she giggled.

"Point fucking taken," I murmured as my hand drifted from her waist toward said button.

The front door clicked open.

"Forgot my keys," Will mumbled, "See you guys later."

"Night, Will," Bella called, pushing away my hand.

"Home by -"

"Eleven, dad. Fucking Christ! I know already."

I rubbed my fingers over my eyes. The kid was just like me. He even swore like me. It didn't fucking bode well for either of us.

xXxXx

Sometimes I suspected that part of Carlisle's problem with Bella and I, early on, involved the way we'd used his shower. I had a gut feeling that our little encounter was the last straw for my uncle, until, of course, Esme put her foot down on the matter and forced him to get with the program.

I hoped he wasn't looking down on this shit disapprovingly. Hell, I hoped he wasn't looking at all. And why the fuck was I thinking about Carlisle when I had Bella pressed against the wet wooden slats with her tits in my hands, while she was soaping my balls? "Fuck me," I mumbled against her lips.

"Yeah?" she asked, moving the soap to my ass, pulling me closer in the process. "Again?"

_The dining room table had been… memorable: her damp skin against the dark wood, the way the moonlight streamed through the blinds like slanted spotlights on her tits, and the taste of salt on her skin. I'd fucking licked her clean, like promised. And I'd sucked… and I'd bitten a little, too. That was before we discovered that if she knelt on the bench that ran along one side of the table with her elbows on the tabletop, it was just the right height to take her from behind and hit places I'd forgotten existed._

"Edward?" Bell asked, her eyes searching mine.

"I'm just getting stared, B," I said, slipping my hands over her ass, letting my fingers intentionally wander.

Not in a million fucking years would I have thought that first time I walked away from this shower stall, that sixteen years later we'd both be back… that we'd be making out again, that she'd be my wife, and that we'd have kids. Ness was a fucking dream to me back then, but another kid, my own biological child – it was a horror and a miracle all in one.

Bella pressed her ass against my hand and my finger slipped further inside as I rubbed my dick against the folds of her pussy. She wrapped her leg around my hip and raked a hand through my chest hair. These days it was as much silver as gold, and no matter what I fucking did, my chest just wasn't as broad as it once was.

My dick still worked as well as ever, though. I credited Bella with that, one hundred fucking percent. I pressed it against her, like I was proving it to myself, and I slipped my finger deeper. Bella gasped her walls clenched tightly around me.

Her lips brushed against mine and then went for my ear. I couldn't resist the sweep of her neck, and I sucked and nipped my way toward her collarbone. My mouth strayed to her tits and before I knew it, I was on my knees, my lips on her belly, lifting a long leg over my shoulder, fingering her ass and sucking her clit, while sweet little curses rained over me with the warm spray of the shower.

Her heel dug into my back.

Her fingers fisted my hair.

Her wetness was slippery and salty and the water from the shower tasted like copper, and once I had her balanced, I added a few fingers to her pussy.

"Oh my god," Bella moaned, and her knee buckled a little.

I knew her. Well. Through and through. As deep inside as I could get, I knew my wife. And I knew that with steady, gentle movements, with careful suction, with just the edge of my teeth, I was just about to…

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god."

Her leg shivered, her hips bucked, her back arched.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck."

Make her come.

Bella giggled as she caught her breath. I pressed my forehead against her flat belly and slipped my hands down her thighs. She handed me the soap, still laughing.

"I love you," I murmured to her navel.

Bella knew I'd only do that shit with her ass in the shower. She didn't mind. She was a saint. I rested on my knees in front of her as I washed my hands, and afterwards I slipped those hands over her thighs and back to her ass as I stood to my feet.

Starlight shined in Bella's dark eyes. Her fingers were still tangled with my hair. I was the luckiest fucking man alive.

"I love you too, you know," she whispered.

"I know, B."

"About time, Masen."

"Come on, B, I've known for at least three weeks."

Bella playfully slapped the back of my head and I lost myself in kisses as I ran my soapy hands over her skin: her breasts, her belly, her hips, her ass… Her hands slipped from my hair and skimmed over my chest, lower, lower, until she was cupping my balls, like she had when we'd first met. I was fucking rock hard for her, too, just like when we first met. I did the things to her mouth that I'd wanted to when we first met, pushing her slippery naked body against the wooden slats while I did.

Something: the soap, my hands, my dick, tickled Bella and she giggled and pressed her forehead against my shoulder while she clutched my balls. Her laughter hadn't changed at all over the years, and it did things to my cock, to my chest, to my heart.

"Fuck," I mumbled as her hand went for my dick.

"Out here?" Bella asked, slipping back and forth and up and over.

And as much as I wanted to say, "fuck, yes", the neighbor's lights switched on across the yard and a couple stepped out onto their back porch. Try as I might, I was never one for exhibitionism. "Fuck me," I mumbled instead, pressing my forehead against Bella's. I watched as she glanced across the yard and I wondered when she'd started reading my thoughts.

"How about the house?" she offered.

"Fuck," I replied, trapping her against the wall, trapping my dick against her belly, so fucking tempted to pick her up and take her right there. Fucking neighbors. They'd just moved in a couple months ago, and this summer there's been loud parties and people coming and going at all hours, and one memorable time the police had been called. As if on cue, a handful of people walked out onto the deck. "Yeah, inside," I opted with a sigh.

I turned off the water and wrapped a big fluffy towel around my wife.

"How much longer do you think we have until eleven?" Bella asked as she wrung out her hair.

"Ambitious?" I asked, finding her waist underneath her towel. I was pretty certain we had over an hour.

"No, just lucky," she laughed as she gave me a quick kiss before pulling away from me and slipping out into the yard. "Meet me up there in about ten minutes?" she asked, flashing her tits, laughing. Another glance at the neighbor's yard was the only thing holding me back from tackling her right there. Well, that and thoughts about what she might need ten minutes for. Ten minutes. Fuck. What was I going to do for ten minutes? I glanced at the neighbors, swilling cocktails on the deck – not an option.

Instead, I towel dried my hair and collected Bella's strewn panties, but held myself back from needlessly tidying the stall. I could always try for sanity, right? Okay, sue me; I fucking lined up the bottles of shampoo and conditioner. I was about to wipe water from the wooden slats of the stall when the distinct smell of pot smoke settled over me and hung in the humid August air. New fucking neighbors.

After nearly thirty years sober, I'd be damned if I was going down on a contact high.

I wrapped a towel around my waist, figuring I'd wait Bella out downstairs, cursing the neighbors under my breath. I'd be fucked if I was going to spend the next sixteen summers choking on pot smoke.

I'd just reached the back door, though, when I heard a very familiar voice. I stopped in my tracks and took a better look around the yard. Back by the reeds and up against the dunes I could just make out a small orange glow in the bushes. The fucking smoke wasn't coming from the neighbors yard at all.

Then I heard him coughing.

"Hey, give me some," an unfamiliar, girlish voice drifted towards me on the salty air.

Then I heard his laughter and saw a beer can tossed onto the lawn.

"Not so fast, I didn't get any that time," he objected.

"Come on, Will!" the girl giggled.

It took me less than three seconds to find my discarded track shorts.

My son was home early, or nearly home, anyway. Apparently he'd made it as far as the edge of the yard, where he stopped so that he could get drunk and high.

In another couple seconds I was beating my way through the underbrush. How many times had I warned him about this shit? How many times did I have to tell him what I went through when I was his age? How many fucking times…

The first thing I saw were her tits, partially covered by my son's hands. That managed to stop my mental rant cold. Then I saw Will's panicked face; his bloodshot eyes, a joint held in his lips. I'd caught her lunging at him, going for the joint. I was going to kill him.

After a second that lasted way too fucking long for all three of us, I finally remembered to turn away.

"Dad, I -"

"First, you're going to help your friend find her top, Will. Then, you're going to put out the joint. Then, you're going to get your friend safely home. Then, you're not going to leave the fucking house for the rest of your fucking life."

"But dad, I -"

"Don't say a fucking word, Will!" I commanded. "Not. A. Fucking. Word."

I heard scrambling and whispering. Will was objecting to something the girl was saying. I'd seen her fucking tits. Jesus. She couldn't have been more than seventeen.

Before I knew it, I heard her walking off through the underbrush.

"Walk your friend home," I hissed without turning to look at my son. I couldn't fucking face him.

"It's just pot, dad. I wasn't drinking or anything. Becca brought the beer."

"Just an illegal fucking gateway drug and public fucking nudity. Treat that girl with some fucking respect and walk her fucking home, and then you're fucking in for it, William Anthony Masen."

Will stomped off without another fucking word, content not to get the last word in, for once in his life. Or maybe he was just fucking afraid. He had every right to be afraid. I was immobilized with rage… and worry… and rage. And Bella was fucking waiting for me upstairs. Shit. Goddamned, motherfucking, trouble making, just like his fucking father, teenaged son.

I stomped across the scratchy grass and let the door slam as I let myself into the house, noting with anger instead of irony that I always yelled at Will for the same fucking thing. I opened the bedroom door with a sigh and found Bella, naked and shimmering with some kind of lotion, and completely fucking shaved.

"Holy fucking…" I sputtered, before all ability to speak left me completely. I'm sure my mouth must have hung open.

"Hey there," she murmured with a shy smile. "I kind of thought, well, just like the first time," she said, biting her lip as the blush from her cheeks spread over her entire body. Her fingers trailed slowly over her breasts; circling, pinching, drifting lower. I blinked hard and raked a hand through my hair. I managed to pull some out by the roots.

It took Bella a couple seconds to discern that something was very wrong.

"Edward?" she asked, propping herself up on her elbows.

"It's fucking Will, Bella," I managed through gritted teeth, leaning against the wall for the support I suddenly needed to keep upright. My head was reeling.

"Will?" she asked alarmed, finding a sheet.

I made a sound close to growling. "I just caught him out back, in the bushes, smoking a joint and feeling up some girl who we've never even met!"

"What?" she asked, wrapping the sheet tighter. Maybe I was mistaken, but she actually seemed relieved. Didn't she understand what I'd just said?

"After everything I've said to him over the years, Bella… After all the fucking warnings I've given him... And then to ignore it all and take some girl into the bushes, pump her full of illegal fucking drugs and take off her fucking top…"

"Edward, calm down. He's fifteen. That's what kids do when they're fifteen."

"You're okay with our fifteen year old son getting high, Bella?"

"I didn't say that. It's just that -"

"Fucking high! Red-rimmed fucking eyes, slurring speech, high. Does he have any idea what I did when I was his age? Does he have any idea what I do for a fucking living?"

"You work with homeless teenage addicts who commit crimes to support their habit. Will's a straight-A student, Edward. He's never missed a curfew. He's a good kid that got caught with a joint."

"Bella, he's not just any other good kid, and you know it. My fucking father was an addict; I'm an addict. When I was fucking fifteen -"

"Edward, you are _not _Will."

"His actions this evening show piss poor judgment, Bella!"

Bella shook her head. "His actions tell me that he's making a point of standing up to his father. His actions make me think that he's trying to show you that your addictions are just that, _your_ addictions."

"No, Bella. This is too fucking far. I mean, I saw that girl practically fucking naked just now."

Bella raised her eyebrows and flashed her tits at me. "Double standard, Edward?" she asked, wrapping the sheet around herself again.

"You're my fucking wife, Bella. I fucking love you. We've been married sixteen fucking years."

"So it's okay to grope your _fucking_ wife in an outdoor shower, but not your girlfriend in the bushes?"

"What girlfriend, Bella? I've never seen that girl before."

Bella pulled herself up and walked slowly over to me like I was some wild animal she was trying to tame. In that moment, I was sure I knew how those animals felt. I shrunk back from her touch because I knew it would go a long way toward pacifying me. I wanted to hold onto my anger. I was right to be angry, because everything I'd said and everything I'd done had gone wrong. There was no taking this back. My teenage son was high. Will could be making all the same mistakes I had, just to fucking spite me.

Bella wrapped her arms around me and leaned her head against my chest. "Where's _our son_, Edward?" she asked in a soft whisper.

Against my will, it worked. I took a deep breath. Our son. She knew what it did to me to hear that. Our son. Against crazy odds, I'd gotten her pregnant sixteen years ago, and it probably saved us both. Our son.

"I made him walk the girl home," I replied, in a calm yet shaky voice.

"That's good," she said, rocking just a little, kissing my bare chest.

"He almost let her walk off alone," I added, clutching at my anger.

"Edward, he's a boy. He's fifteen."

I pressed my eyelids closed as unpleasant flashbacks of myself at fifteen settled into my consciousness: pulling up Tanya's skirt in a stinking alley, taking advantage of her feelings for me, taking out my frustrations on her pussy, proving myself… I'd used sex as everything except as a form of fucking intimacy.

"I know about being fifteen, Bella," I growled.

"Me too, Edward. I was fifteen, too. I bet that girl _wanted_ to be there with Will." Bella took my face in her hands and I opened my eyes to see a small, sad smile on her lips. Her eyes looked wet and I prayed to fucking god that she didn't cry. I couldn't handle that shit at the moment.

"He's not little anymore," she whispered through pursed lips. "He's a good kid, Edward. You know that. He needs a talking to, but you have to separate the two of you before you can do that. Does that make sense?"

The front door slammed shut and my hands instinctively balled into fists.

"I should get dressed," Bella said, kissing my cheek and closing her warm little hands over mine. "Do you want me to talk to him?"

"No," I answered without hesitation.

A chair leg scraped across the kitchen tiles.

"Maybe I should be the one, Edward. Maybe you should wait until you're thinking clearly."

"Don't tell me how I'm thinking, Bella," I grumbled as I pulled away from her and began searching for a T-shirt.

"I know you, Edward."

"I know that, B," I sighed, pulling the first shirt I found over my head. When I turned around, Bella was standing in front of me in just a pair of sleep shorts. The kid had really ruined my night.

"I love you," Bella murmured, grabbing a hold of my waist. "I love the parts of you I see in him the most, you know. Do you know how happy that makes me? When I see him lose himself as he plays guitar? When I see how easy it is for him to think logically? When I see those girls swooning over him? I think how lucky I was to share a son with you. How lucky he is to be a part of you."

"But Bella -"

"No buts, Edward," she said, pulling me closer. "He needs to be respectful of women. He shouldn't be doing drugs. But please leave your baggage here with me when you talk to him."

"I don't know, B," I said as I looked into her big brown eyes. She'd always been the strong one in the relationship in my estimation. Now I felt like I needed her strength more than ever.

"I can talk to him," she offered again.

"He'd fucking hate that."

"I imagine he would," she said with a smile. "Did I ever tell you about the time my dad tried to talk to me about sex?"

I couldn't help grinning. Charlie Swan could hardly stand to see his daughter kiss me, even after all this time. I couldn't imagine the man saying 'sex' in her presence, let alone discussing it with her as a teenager.

"Maybe we could fly Charlie out here," I suggested with a chuckle.

"Edward," Bella laughed.

"I'll be reasonable, B. I'm always reasonable. Aren't I?"

"Except when it comes to the people you love," she reminded me with a soft kiss. "That's half the reason we ever got together."

"What's the other half of a reason?" I asked.

We heard the refrigerator open downstairs. Fucking munchies. I tried to quell my growing anger.

"Because I couldn't stop loving you, Edward. Everything about you. So, stop beating yourself up and go talk to your son."

* * *

**A/N: This little story just wouldn't leave my brain. I started writing it as a one shot, but as it turns out, it's a bit too long for that. Expect a couple more chapters so the rest of the family can show up and weigh in... Thanks for reading. Feel free to leave a review. Next update coming soonish. xxx, M**


	5. Will's Will, Part II

I reminded myself to take deep, cleansing breaths as I made my way down the stairs…. Deep _fucking _cleansing breaths.

I had no doubt Will was probably eating chicken nuggets or lunchmeat or some shit loaded with nitrates and sodium.

I paused. I breathed. Processed meat wasn't the point. "_Deep fucking cleansing breaths_," I reminded myself.

Bella had gotten me to take a yoga class or two about ten years ago. Yoga wasn't for me, _at all_, but I kept up with the breathing when I needed it. Tonight I fucking needed it.

"I know you're just standing there on the stairs, dad," Will said as I heard him settle himself into a chair. I honestly couldn't believe he had the balls to fucking speak at this moment in time.

I bit my lip, and tried to keep a lid on my mounting anger as I met him in the dining room. One look at the table, though, and I was presented with a different struggle – the need to keep the smug grin off my face. My grin had nothing to do with Will and everything to do with what I'd been doing to his mom where he was sitting, only a couple hours ago. For a second, it made everything come out even - until I saw my kid's glassy, red, defiant eyes.

"What were you thinking, Will?" I asked steadily, remembering those cleansing breaths, focusing on his face, instead of the cold hot dog of death in his hands or the way I could still smell the pot on his clothing.

"Nothing," Will replied sullenly, staring hard at his lap.

"That much is obvious," I agreed.

"What now?" he asked, nervously shaking his foot.

"I don't fucking know, Will," I admitted as I shook my head and took a seat across the table from him.

"It's not like I had a needle in my arm," he said, sneaking an insolent look in my general direction.

"Goddammit," I muttered, running a hand through my hair, wondering if I'd have any left by the time my kid was eighteen. "Don't you fucking get it, Will?"

"I'm not an imbecile, dad. I understand English."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You fucked up your life when you were a kid, but that's got nothing to do with me."

"Until you fucking go off and get high at fifteen fucking years old, William!" I exploded. I closed my eyes, bit my lip, and tried another deep, cleansing breath.

"It was just -"

"Don't you dare fucking say 'it was just pot' one more time."

"Well, it was! Just. Pot. Now what, _dad_?" Will sneered 'dad' like it was a dirty word.

I didn't want to go around and around like this. I wouldn't. Couldn't he fucking see what I was saying? Didn't he fucking get it?

"I want better for you," I said, half to myself.

"Better than what?" he asked before taking a bite of the hot dog.

"It took almost dying for me to get sober, Will," I explained for the thousandth time in fifteen years.

Will pushed his chair back and started standing to his feet. "If you're going to use this as an excuse to start talking about my balls again, dad, then I'm just -"

"Sit _the fuck_ down, William!" My son stared at me incredulously and froze in his tracks. "Now!" I ordered. Will sat. He rolled the hot dog back and forth on the tabletop.

I decided to take a different tack.

"What you do to yourself is one thing, Will, but when you bring someone else into the picture -"

"Shit," Will whispered under his breath, slouching in his chair, folding his arms across his chest.

"I don't want you bringing girls home, getting them high and getting them naked. Do you hear me?"

"You're sitting right there, dad. Of course, I hear you."

"You're fifteen."

"I know how old I am."

"Who was that out there?" I asked.

"Becca," he said with a roll of his eyes and a roll of the hot dog on the table. He was going to wipe that table down when this was over, that was for fucking sure.

I sighed and rubbed my hand over my face.

"You know what I mean, Will. Who the hell is Becca? I've never seen her before this evening."

"I don't know. She's Dave's cousin, I guess."

"Don't you think maybe you should know someone a little better than that before you undress them?"

"I guess," Will shrugged.

"There's no guessing. There just is, Will."

Will threw the hot dog down and looked up at me with blazing green, bloodshot eyes. "Let me guess, _dad_; you're talking to me about Becca now because you screwed up when you were a kid. You probably fucked half of Philly - all girls you didn't know, so now I'm supposed to stay a virgin until I'm twenty-nine so I don't make your mistakes. Is that about right?"

I stood slowly to my feet and leaned across the table towards my son.

"That's enough, young man," I said so quietly and so steadily that I surprised myself. "You're not going to talk to me that way, do you understand?"

Will folded his arms across his chest again and stared out the window at the black night.

"You will not speak disrespectfully about things you can't even begin to comprehend," I continued.

"Like hell I don't _comprehend_, dad! You had a thing with Sasha's daughter since you were my age. You fucked up. That's why they're never around when you are. I tell you what, I'll never screw around with Sasha's family, does that make it okay? Can I act like a normal kid, then?"

"Lower your fucking voice, Will, or I swear to god, you're not leaving the fucking house until college."

I was simply struggling to breathe at this point, fuck the cleansing part of the equation. I sat down, hoping that would help. It didn't.

"Listen to me, William. This has nothing to do with my history, and everything to do with raising a decent son. You said something about screwing around just now. I don't want you _screwing_ _around _with anyone. Screwing around, or sex… it's more than just getting high in the bushes with a pretty pair of tits in your hands."

Will made a funny sound, halfway between laughter and a groan. "I knew you saw her tits," he mumbled, his jaw clenched.

"That's bound to fucking happen when you fool around in public."

Will sunk lower in his chair.

"That's no way to treat someone, son."

Will raised his eyebrows and gave me an incredulous glare out of the corner of his glassy eyes. He opened his mouth, but I interrupted him before he could get a word out.

"It's no way to treat someone _that you don't even know_," I amended, at something of a loss. I had just been finger fucking his mom's ass in an outdoor shower. "Sex is about more than sex, Will. There are emotions involved, feelings, especially for women, or girls. And when you ignore that and take advantage -"

"I wasn't taking advantage of anyone, dad. She asked me."

"And did she ask to let your father see her topless?"

This time Will made a sound that left me wondering if he was going to retch. Pot was supposed to settle your stomach, though. I wondered how much he'd been drinking. Will burped into his hand and went back to looking out the window.

"When you're with a woman, you have a responsibility to make sure something like that doesn't happen. Out of respect."

"So, I'm supposed to respectfully bring her home and go up to my room and shut the door?"

I pressed my fingers against my eyes. The fact was, I didn't fucking know. How had we missed all of this with Ness? Thank fuck I'd never wandered across my daughter high and topless in the bushes. I would have torn whoever she was with limb from fucking limb, before I sent her off to convent.

I settled on, "If you're serious about a girl, I want to meet her."

"Fuck," Will said.

"Language, Will."

"Yeah, right, dad," he laughed. "That's priceless."

"I want to meet her. Any girl. If you care about her enough, your mother and I should meet her."

"Uh…" he hedged.

"That's a reasonable request, Will."

"That's your opinion."

"I don't think you should be having sex."

"I'm not having sex."

"Yet."

"Dad!"

"I'm fucking serious, Will. Wait until you meet someone you can't imagine not being intimate with. Wait until it's not just anyone that offers herself up, wait until you know. And use protection. I'm too fucking young to be a grandparent, and Bella would have a fucking heart attack if you came down with an STD."

"Jesus, dad," Will said. His foot started bouncing nervously again.

"I'm serious. It took me thirty-two fucking years to figure this shit out."

"And people say you're so smart," he laughed bitterly.

"Between you and me, people are fucking wrong," I replied, pulling at my hair again. Obviously, I was going very wrong here.

"No argument there. Am I still in trouble?" Will asked, sneaking a hopeful glance in my direction.

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

"No," he stated defiantly.

"You're grounded for the rest of the weekend. You can look at the beach from the yard. No more topless dates with Becca, whoever the fuck she is."

"It wasn't a date."

"It's like I'm talking to the fucking wind," I sighed, leaning back in my chair, gritting my teeth.

"Grounded?" he asked.

"And when we're back in town you're doing public service. The cops didn't catch you with that joint, but I did. I'll get you in with CPS and you can spend some time with other kids paying back the community for their drug use."

"Dad, those kids you work with are criminals!"

"Marijuana is illegal, last I checked," I offered, tapping my fingers on the arms of the chair, trying to stay calm.

"It's been decriminalized in Jersey," he shot back.

I slammed my fist on the table. "Well, it hasn't been decriminalized in my goaddamned house, young man!"

"This isn't exactly your house."

"That's fucking it, William! Should we try this conversation again with your grandmother, the owner of this goddamned house? I'm more than fucking happy to do this again with an audience. Would you like that?" I asked, seething and silently, desperately hoping to keep this shit from Esme. It was the last thing she needed this summer.

"Whatever. I won't be in your house for long, anyway."

"You've got three more years."

"Counting down the days," he mumbled, glaring at me.

And I didn't let him see it, but that's where Will broke me. I sat still and strong and held myself back from begging him to stay in our home until he was of age. It would kill me if he left and roamed the fucking streets getting high. I wouldn't be able to survive it. I bit my lip, unable to say anything else.

All I could let him see was my anger.

I rubbed my hands over my thighs. I opened my mouth, but no words came out. My emotions seesawed back and forth between rage and desperation.

"Is that it?" Will asked petulantly, popping the rest of his cold hot dog into his mouth.

"No," I replied. I had so much more to say, but no idea how to begin.

Will sighed.

I could no longer keep my own thoughts and objections clear, or my arguments concise, though. Thank fuck I'd never had to face my own son in court.

Will looked at me reluctantly, expectantly.

"Your mother said to remind you to check for ticks," I said, adding, "Sitting in the dunes like that was a stupid idea, on more than one level."

Will rolled his eyes, but I watched as he tried to inconspicuously run his fingers over his skin, like he just happened to be doing that shit.

"Bedtime," I instructed, standing wearily to my feet.

"Bedtime? What am I, eight?" Will asked.

"I wish," I muttered. "I fucking wish."

xXxXx

My impulse had always been to skip food when I was upset, so Bella's impulse had always been to feed me. This morning she dragged Will out of bed to help with breakfast, apparently killing him with kindness, or some shit.

Will said next to nothing and settled for grating and chopping and doing whatever he was told. It was like the two of them could talk without words, and I knew Bella's quiet orders about breakfast preparation somehow conveyed her displeasure with last night's actions and her censure, and her wishes for more acceptable behavior in the future, all in one.

Watching the two of them in the kitchen was enough to make me to think for a moment that maybe I should have let Bella handle things last night. However, the moment passed, and I knew that what happened last night was between Will and I, and what I had to say involved our shared DNA, and it involved shit that a boy needed to hear from his father.

I couldn't say if our talk made any difference whatsoever, though. I supposed that only time would tell. I didn't like fucking waiting for the time to come, though... Waiting to make sure he didn't move on to other drugs, waiting for the time he got arrested, or stayed out all night, or came home beat up, or stopped coming home at all.

Last night, after my confrontation with Will, Bella had held me. She told me over and over that Will was far removed from that reality I was so scared of. I knew that; I did. But maybe she could never understand that it took so little to fall into that lifestyle. I had to face the fact that I wasn't one of the reasons Will would stick around. He hated me.

My son hated me.

I gave up trying to read the paper and glanced across the room at Bella and Will preparing a fruit salad. Will was already a good six inches taller than his mother, and probably outweighed her by fifty pounds, easy. Yet he never stood up to her or spoke back. Maybe that was enough; maybe Bella would keep him grounded. If my mother had been alive, I'm pretty sure there was little my father could have done to fuck with me the way he had. Maybe I didn't have to agonize like I was.

Then Will turned around to bring plates out to the dining room table, though, and I saw the way he looked at me, and I couldn't help but worry. I couldn't help but agree with his silent assessment, either. Our relationship was a problem - one that I felt powerless to fix.

"I was hoping Ness would be here by now," Bella said, passing the bowl of fruit salad to Will, before checking on the quiche she had baking in the oven. "Everything's ready."

"Ness is always late," Will grumbled, plopping down in a chair.

I bit my lip and held myself back from pointing out that I'd choose chronically late over topless and high any fucking day of the week.

My phone buzzed on the end table next to me.

_Traffic near Wildwood. Be there in 20. Start without me. OK? _

Normally I hated texted smiley faces, but Ness's had always made my day. I felt lighter just looking at her message. My daughter was well adjusted and smart and hard working. She'd chosen me to be her father. She'd given me hope early on that maybe I could do this shit right. I clutched at my phone like I was clutching to that hope.

"Ness is on her way," I said out loud. "She said to start eating without her."

"I told you," Will grumbled, shaking his head. "She's late every single time."

"That's enough, Will," I warned.

"Right, dad. Sure. Because no one can say anything bad about Nessie. She can just do whatever the hell she wants and no one blinks an eye."

"Will, I said that was enough."

"No! I'm fed up with this shit! Ness isn't a saint, dad, and I'm tired of you treating her that way!"

"This has nothing to do with your sister!"

"It has shit to do with me, either," he spat, throwing his fork on the table, staring me down.

Bella placed her hand over her son's. "William, that's enough."

He huffed and glared at me, but listened to his mother and shut the hell up.

"And watch your fucking language," I added.

Will laughed bitterly. "Yeah, whatever."

My wife cast a stern look in my direction. "Enough, Edward."

I shut my fucking mouth. I gripped my cup of coffee. I managed to hold my fucking tongue and so did Will, both of us for the sake of Bella. I couldn't tell you what I fucking ate or what I pretended to read in the paper. My son's foot tapped nervously on the ground. Bella gave up all attempts at conversation.

By the time Ness bounded cheerfully into the house, it would have been hard to cut the tension at that table with a knife. You would have needed a jackhammer for the shit hanging over us.

"Um, hey, guys," Ness said, giving Bella and I quick kisses on the cheek, and punching Will on the shoulder. "What's up Two Minute?"

Will gave a sarcastic laugh.

Ness looked between Will and I as Bella bailed from the room, ostensibly to get Ness a cup of coffee, but probably so she wouldn't lose her mind.

"Seriously, what did I miss?" Ness asked, sitting down slowly, like she was trying not to startle us.

"Dad saw Becca Thompson's tits and he can't get over it," Will said with a smirk, looking me right in the eye.

"That's fucking it, William Masen. Go to your fucking room!"

Will's phone chose that minute to ring - that stupid-ass comic book laughter. At the fucking table, no less.

"And you can leave your fucking phone with me!"

"Jesus, dad!"

"So help me, to your room, now!"

Will threw his cell on the table and stomped out of the room and up the stairs. The house shook as his door slammed shut. Bella passed Ness a steaming mug of coffee and a knowing look.

"Thanks for coming, baby," she said in a quiet voice, wrapping her arm around her daughter's shoulders.

"Yeah, umm, good to be here?" Ness asked, glancing at me quizzically.

I didn't want to ruin Nessie and Bella's morning together. In just a couple hours they'd be joined by twelve overbearing Cullens. I mumbled something about work and stalked out of the room, leaving them to catch up without having to deal with my shit.

xXxXx

**NPOV**

For a kid that was supposed to be a genius or something, Will could be a real idiot. Either that, or he was getting in trouble on purpose, which seemed like the more likely scenario, but I didn't want to believe it. I didn't want to think that he'd do this to dad intentionally. Come to think of it, I was back at the idiot theory, because choosing your actions with the intent of making someone else angry was really dumb.

Will and dad were kind of always battling like that, though. Mom and I said it was because they were so much alike. I'd never said that to dad or Will, though. It was like they were both horrified to admit it, or something.

Seriously though, to see pictures of dad as a kid, it was like you were looking at Will, just a little less bulky. And then there was the way Will could just pick up any instrument and play it like he'd had lessons for years, just like dad with the piano. My brother was book smart too; he could learn things in his sleep. That used to piss me off so much. I'd stay up all night studying and Will would roll out of bed and ace a test and get put into some honors level class - all just for opening his eyes.

Then there was the way they both talked. Seriously, it was almost funny. I guess I shouldn't have been surprised, though. I was one of the only people that knew that Will's first word was 'fuck'.

I paused in the hallway outside of the bedroom that all the boys shared. Aunt Rosalie had just called mom. In just a matter of minutes, Will was going to have five little cousins crowding in on him, asking him to play football, asking him to play video games, asking him every question under the sun. Mom had asked me to warn Will about their arrival. I got the feeling she was hoping Will wouldn't explode and yell at my cousins, which would just set dad off again.

I knocked on Will's door, but didn't get any answer. It was completely quiet inside.

"Will?" I asked, knocking again.

I received only silence in return.

There were no locks on the doors at the beach house, so I chanced having my head bitten off and cracked the door open a sliver and peaked inside. Will was sitting at the window seat, listening to his iPod and reading a graphic novel.

"Hey, Two Minute," I said, walking further into the room. Will glanced up from his book and scowled, but pulled the ear buds out of his ears, just the same. Immediately, tinny, screaming music could be heard loud and clear. Seriously, he even listened to the same angry kind of music dad liked.

Will looked at me expectantly, like I was keeping him from something, which I guess I was. Reading and brooding were two of his favorite pastimes.

"Uncle Em, Aunt Rose and the kids are close. We just thought you should be warned," I said.

Will shrugged his shoulders and looked out the window.

"You're not talking to me?" I asked, sitting on the edge of the closest bed.

"I'm not exactly in the mood for a heart-to-heart, Ness. Okay?" Will huffed

"Well, yeah, I mean, about last night -"

Will gave me a baleful look and rolled his eyes, but I decided to go for it. After the rest of the family was here I'd never get the chance to talk to Will alone.

"The edge of the yard, Will? Really?"

He shrugged his shoulders.

"That was just stupid. You got off easy, you know that, don't you?" I asked. "I mean, you know how dad is about that stuff."

"Don't even start, Ness. Not you too. You _so_ don't get to talk to me about that shit, okay?"

Will searched for the page he'd been reading in the book and buried his nose in it. I knew he wasn't reading, though, just like I knew when dad wasn't reading the newspaper.

"I don't get to talk about what, Will?" I asked. "I don't get to talk about dad? About smoking pot? I'm just trying to reason with you, here."

"That's easy for you to say, Ness," Will practically growled, staring hard at the page in front of him.

I didn't get it. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Whatever, Ness. You're perfect," Will grumbled.

I scowled. I wasn't perfect. I mean, I tried to be good. Only Will would think that was some kind of crime, though.

"Whatever, Will. You're, like, trying to be bad. And you're not. It's weird."

"I just wish _he_'d leave me alone," Will said to the page in front of him.

I couldn't help chuckling. "Have you met our father?"

"_Your_ father is different," Will huffed.

I jumped up off the bed in immediate anger. I was not having _that_ argument again. "You're going to start that with me? Jesus, Will, what's your problem? I'm just trying to talk to you!"

My brother's face snapped up from the book and blanched and softened. "Dude, Ness, that's not what I meant. I wasn't talking about… _that_. I swear."

I could tell from Will's tone that he was telling the truth. I tried to settle down, but it was hard. When you worked so hard to make someone your father, well, it was maddening to be told different. When we were little, Will would use that knowledge to make me cry sometimes… up until he was old enough to understand exactly what it was he was saying.

I guess I still held a grudge. It made me mad all over again thinking about how much I loved my father, and how hard I had to fight to get him, and here Will was just being an idiot.

"Dad's just different to you," Will explained apologetically. "That's all I meant."

"Yeah, well, he worries about you, Will. And if you keep doing stupid things like last night, then -"

"Like you've never gotten high, Nessie?" Will interrupted. "Please."

"Not when I was your age. And I never shoved it in dad's face. There's a difference."

"It's not fair," he said, like the world was suddenly supposed to be fair, just for him.

I shook my head. Fair didn't really matter. It was what it was. Will was the miracle kid - dad's amazing biological son. He was cute and popular and there were about a million kids out there that would say that it wasn't fair that they weren't just like Will. Everything came easy to him, even girls, apparently.

"Becca Thompson?" I asked.

Will blushed like mom.

"Really?" I asked again. I was pretty sure Becca was just one or two years younger than me. Will was just a kid. That was wrong on so many levels.

He shrugged.

"Isn't she supposed to be at Georgetown?"

Will shrugged again. Apparently he was done talking.

"Well, you were acting dumb, Will. Stop getting caught, okay? It'll make your life that much easier."

"Whatever, Ness," Will replied.

We both heard the front door open downstairs, and Uncle Emmett's booming voice wondering where everyone was hiding. Will sat up straighter and finally looked me in the eye. "Don't say anything to them, okay Ness?"

I couldn't help smiling. "Yeah, my silence will keep everything under wraps for, like, an extra five minutes. Have fun this weekend, Two Minute, because you're never going to live that little stunt down."

"Fucking Christ," Will muttered, and I laughed as I got to my feet. For all his talk about dad, they truly were, kind of, like, exactly the same.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for all of your reviews! I'm having so much fun hanging out with these characters again. I hope you are too. As always, I love to hear what you think. Will's something, huh? Not sure how many chapters this little story will take to tell. I was thinking three... maybe it will take 4, or 5? I guess I'll finish when it's finished. xxx, M**


	6. Will's Will, Part III

**EPOV**

I sat on the back steps with my coffee and my tablet, listening to the gulls, listening to the surf, listening to the voices of my family inside as one by one they asked Bella where I was. Kids' voices chattered on the second floor. Some nephew or another was crying. The house creaked as it tried to contain Emmett's five rambunctious boys.

I caught part of a conversation as Ness was talking to Esme about her summer internship in D.C.

"Forget D.C., let's talk about Barcelona," Rosalie cut in.

"It's a beautiful city, Aunt Rose," Ness began.

"I wasn't talking about the city," Rose clarified. "Tell me about _Barcelona_."

"Oh!" Ness exclaimed. "You mean… _Mom_, you said you wouldn't tell anyone about… _that_."

Rosalie laughed out loud. "Bell didn't say a thing, Ness. I just guessed. What's his name?"

I strained to hear more, but the women left the kitchen, taking their voices with them. So, Ness had met someone in Barcelona. We hadn't had much of a chance to talk since she'd arrived at the shore house, but I knew Bella would fill me in tonight when we were alone. I was also confident that Ness would tell me in her own time, if it were serious.

I wondered if it _was_ serious, and I wondered if Ness was heartbroken, leaving the boy, whoever he was, behind. I also wondered why the idea of Ness with a boy had never filled me with dread, like Will's actions had last night. Was it simply because my son looked like me? Was it because he'd been high? Was I laboring under some assumption that my teenaged fuck-ups were passed down through DNA?

I wondered if Will would listen to Ness. I wondered if she'd talk to him.

I was wondering enough that I only half paid attention as the back door swung open.

"Dude, there you are! Why the hell are you hiding back here, bro?"

Emmett slapped me on the back, startling me from my thoughts as he jogged down the steps. I glanced at my cousin as he settled himself next to me. He'd gotten a little grayer over the past couple years, and his eyes were a little more tired-looking, but he was as big and happy as ever.

"Good to see you, Em," I offered with a lackluster smile.

"So, Bella says Will's grounded, but by the looks of it, you've also been banished."

I shook my head noncommittally.

"Dude, I had to send John to bed without desert the other night. The little fucker tied Tim's shoelaces together at the dinner table. Tim bashed his head against the table and knocked out a tooth trying to get up. We're pretty sure he was about to lose it, anyway, and if it wasn't my kid it would have been funny as hell, but I can't let John beat up on his little brother like Tyler used beat up on him."

John, Tim, Tyler… I wouldn't admit it to anyone but Bella, but I had a hard time keeping my nephews straight. Emmett's little story left me at a loss, partly because I didn't exactly know which of his kids he was talking about, and partly because tying shoelaces together at the dinner table seemed to pale in comparison to my own son's antics. Frankly, I didn't like pointing out how far outside of The Cullen range of normal my little family had fallen.

"Oh," I managed.

"What'd your little fucker do?" Emmett asked as he reached for my coffee mug and downed half the cup in one sip. I raised my eyebrows at him.

"What? Do you have cooties or something?" he asked, handing the mug back to me.

Rosalie and Nessie's laughter filtered into the backyard from the front porch. One of my nephews shouted, "Will can't go to the beach!" somewhere above our heads.

"He's going to be the death of me, Em," I admitted, resting my head in my hands.

"Dramatic much?" Emmett asked. "I think Alice and Tanya and Dad and Bella were all going to '_be the death of you_' at one point or another."

"I caught him smoking pot with a topless girl in the bushes," I muttered as I snuck a glance at my cousin.

Emmett doubled over laughing.

"It's not fucking funny," I fumed.

"No," he sputtered, "It's legendary. He's about what, just a year older than Tyler, right?"

While I tried to pin down which one Tyler was, Emmett slapped his knee and kept right on chuckling.

"Jesus, Em," I muttered. "He just turned fifteen."

Emmett shook his head. "Sorry, not funny, dude. The little guy shouldn't be sitting around and getting high with topless girls. He's at the beach. He should totally be swimming with them."

Emmett jumped off the steps like he half expected me to hit him. Once upon a fucking time I would have. This morning I didn't have it in me.

"It's like he's doing it to spite me," I murmured.

"I don't think he's feeling up boobs and thinking about his dad. At least, I hope not. Then you'd really have your work cut out for you."

I rolled my eyes. "Emmett," I sighed. "This isn't a fucking joke."

"Dude, you know how it is. I mean, even you were a teenager once, Edward."

I cast a withering glance in my cousin's direction. My childhood and Emmett's were very different things. We'd been the same age and lived in the same city, but that's where the similarities began and ended. He'd gone to the best schools and had everything he wanted and needed at his fingertips, while I'd lived on the streets and fed and clothed myself.

"Don't give me that look, dude," Emmett chastised. "You might have been skinny and weird and a little opinionated, but you were still a kid."

I blinked. Emmett took it for the argument that it was.

"Fine, Edward, whatever, maybe not. I don't know. But, dude, some beer, a joint, and a girl… these are the things you shoot for when you're in high school. Will's always been advanced, he just figured out how to get to the goal a little earlier than others."

"I don't want my fifteen year old son smoking pot, Emmett. Fuck, I'm not sure I want my twenty-five year old son smoking pot. Not to mention, I think he's too young to understand what it means to have someone, a girl, in that vulnerable position… I realized that way too fucking late, and now I look back on that shit and I can never take it back, you know?"

"Not exactly," Emmett admitted.

"Yeah, well," I said, looking at my hands, disgusted with my teenaged self all over again. I guessed I'd never put the details of my history out there for Emmett, and I wasn't sure how much Alice had shared with him over the years. Chances are she hadn't told her brother a thing; she was good like that.

"Did you tell Will what you just told me?" Emmett asked, taking a cautious seat back on the bottom step.

"Yes... Or, uh, no. I don't know, really. Maybe not in those words."

"Maybe you should make sure," Emmett offered.

"I have a feeling I've talked so much, that I've reached capacity. I don't know if he'll fucking listen anymore."

"You want me to say some -"

"No," I quickly interrupted.

"Whatever, Edward. I do have five boys, you know."

"No offense, Em. Just, maybe I shouldn't have said anything. You know, I didn't keep his confidence. It'll just be another strike against me in the end."

"You can always talk to me; you know that, Edward. About our kids. About whatever. I won't say anything to Will if you don't want me to."

Just then the back door was thrown open and boys rushed and tumbled past us, all wearing swim trunks and holding towels, racing for the beach. One set of feet hung back by the door, though. I'd know those skate shoes anywhere.

"Hey, Will! Dude!" Emmett stuck out his fist for a fist bump and waggled his eyebrows at my son.

"You told him," came Will's monotone reply.

"What?" Emmett asked. "I told who, what?"

It was useless to deny it. I didn't bother.

"You fucking told him! Nice, dad! I can't fucking believe you!" Will stomped back into the house, slamming the door behind him.

"What did I do?" Emmett asked.

"Welcome to my world, Em, where you can't do anything right."

xXxXx

The family, sans Will, spent most of the day down on the beach. Bella and Ness lay side by side on their beach chairs, both reading, sharing a water bottle and making small talk about their books. Em was throwing a ball around with his kids, while Rosalie handled the grittier technicalities of being a parent: making sure the little ones didn't eat sand, didn't get pulled out by the undertow and kept their wieners in their pants.

Esme, though, was more withdrawn than usual - her mood matching my own for once. She pretended to read a magazine, but I knew that trick.

"Esme?" I asked, taking a seat on the blanket next to her.

She startled and flushed and forced a smile onto her face.

"Oh, Edward."

"What do you think about building a waterfront boardwalk to attract more investment along the Delaware River?" I asked.

"Excuse me?" she replied, looking flustered, and I immediately regretted needling her. I nodded to the article about Delaware River redevelopment that she was holding in her hands and pretending to read.

"Oh, right. I suppose I haven't the faintest," she admitted, placing the magazine on the blanket by her side.

"You want to talk?" I asked, settling in next to her, digging my feet in the sand as we both watched Em and Rose's kids run past us, splashing at the water's edge. Esme didn't answer right away. Her eyes settled on a point near the horizon.

"This is my first year here without _him_ since I was seventeen," she eventually admitted with a small sigh.

I didn't fucking know what to say to that, so I watched the horizon too. Bella, dead – I couldn't imagine. The idea of it left me dizzy.

"I don't know if I've said this out loud, Esme, but I'm in awe of your strength."

"Sometimes, Edward, I'd rather not be strong," she said in an uncharacteristically small voice. "Sometimes… I'd rather not… be."

"You don't have to, you know," I offered. "Not with me, anyway."

Esme leaned her head against my shoulder. "He made a point of being here, even if he was clutching his pager or his blackberry. One year he rescued this little boy… I hadn't seen it happening, but Carlisle just took off running down the beach and then he dove into the water. He got to the boy before the lifeguards did and rode with him in the ambulance.

"Of course, there was always Alice to tend to growing up. Every summer it was something different: cutting her foot open with a sharp seashell, jellyfish stings, salt water in the eyes. C-, C-… _Carlisle_ was always on duty. Then the first year with Vanessa here – you remember that nasty cut to her head? It was just like having Alice back. It made him so happy to have a child around again, a little one to tend to. It put him at ease, I think. He had a roll to play.

"But I was just sitting here now, thinking that if something happened to one of my grandchildren this weekend, I'm sure I'd run in the opposite direction… because I'll look for him, Edward, and every time it surprises me all over again that he's not here. It's… too much.

"I never really imagined he would be gone," she quietly admitted

"He's everywhere in that house, you know, Esme."

"If he's anywhere in that house, he's lurking in the shower," she replied with a sad smile, shaking her head.

I had to smile too, because I had a sinking feeling that Esme was right, seeing as how I'd been thinking about my uncle while I was feeling up my wife last night. I offered up a silent apology to Carlisle, just in case he was listening, just in case anyone had ears to hear shit like that after they died.

"What about you, Edward?" Esme asked, interrupting my post-mortem amends.

"Me? I don't lurk in the shower… much," I said with a chuckle.

"That's funny, dear, but that wasn't what I was referring to, and I think you know it. You're out here brooding like it's two thousand and ten all over again."

I sighed and dug my heels into the warm sand. I didn't want to burden her with my shit. She had enough to contend with. "Noth -"

"And don't say 'nothing', Edward. We know each other better than that, you and I." Esme clutched my hand and tipped my head up so that I was forced to look her in her big, honey-brown eyes.

"Will," was my reluctant, one-word answer.

"Are you referring to the character trait you carry in spades, or to Will, my oldest grandson?" she asked with a dry laugh.

"The latter," I clarified, thinking that for the time being, the two definitions were very close to being one in the same.

"Yes, up in his room at the house on a holiday weekend," Esme said, looking over my shoulder at the second story peeking just over the dunes.

"I see so much of myself in him," I admitted.

"That, my dear, is one of the joys of parenthood," Esme said with a knowing smile, and I had the distinct impression she was being sarcastic.

"Whatever, Esme. That's something you and Carlisle never had to worry about."

Esme chuckled. "Are you kidding, Edward? I loved my husband dearly, infinitely even, but he wasn't the warmest and most outwardly loving man on the planet. I worried sometimes about how that might impact our children. But no one could say that Emmett or Alice are cool and detached and clinical. Far from it."

"Well, I'm sure they get their warmth from you," I offered.

Esme nodded her head knowingly in Bella's direction.

"My son loves his mother, Esme, but he still carries half my DNA. I see myself in him so much, and Will points out new weaknesses in my character every fucking day… And then he acts them out every fucking day."

"What about your daughter?" Esme asked, taking my swearing in stride.

"Ness? What about her?"

"I see so much of you in your daughter, shared DNA or not, Edward. She inherited your insight into people, and your need for justice, not to mention the gentle and quiet way that you show your love. You don't take credit for any of the good things, do you?"

"Credit?"

"Sometimes DNA means next to nothing, Edward. I believe it's our example and our love that make the difference. Vanessa is nothing like her biological father, is she? She's your daughter, through and through. Your son shares your DNA and your love, and he's disciplined when he needs to be."

Esme patted my knee and I shut the fuck up and let that idea sink in. She was right about at least one thing: I never worried about James Hunter's DNA when I thought about my daughter.

"You know, as the years go by, I see more and more of my husband in you, Edward. He was always hard on himself too, especially when it came to your upbringing."

"Carlisle's more a part of me than ever when it comes to Will," I acknowledged. "Who would have thought?"

"He would have loved to hear you say that."

"I'm sorry I never told him."

"It meant the world to him to get you back, Edward. It was a long hard road for you, for all of us, but it came out all right in the end. Would you have it any differently, really?"

I shook my head. I wouldn't be alive without my family. I knew that.

"William has his road, and he'll make his share of mistakes, but there's an immeasurable difference between the two of you. William has a family, Edward, one that will never let him go."

As if on cue, the rowdiest part of that family charged past us, kicking up sand in all directions and spraying Esme and I with salt water.

"Aunt Alice! Uncle J!" they screeched as they ran by.

Esme's smile took up her entire face as she looked past me towards the dunes. "They're early," she said, brushing off the sand and jumping to her feet like she was instantly twenty years younger.

I turned to see Alice and J trudging down to the beach, each with a small child in their arms, and surrounded by Em's clambering kids. Alice finally caved two summers ago to J's insistent pleas to have a couple kids of their own. While I had no proof, I was a little bit suspicious about the twins: one boy and one girl, one blond and one brunette, and both incredibly advanced for their age. My cousin and her husband were celebrities, though; they did things differently than the rest of us. I didn't love the little ones any less just because they were designer babies. They were adorable, and I was so happy to see my sister smiling contentedly into her children's eyes. Hell, it was only fitting that Alice designed her children, just like her clothing and her homes.

I hung back while the rest of my family greeted the newest arrivals, but Alice cut through the crowd and came straight for me, balancing Gracie on her hip.

"Hey there, big brother," Alice chirped with a smile.

I stood to my feet and took the tiny little girl from Alice's hands. Gracie was my goddaughter, and she held a special place in my heart. She had enormous brown eyes, dark brown hair, and a tiny turned-up nose, just like Alice. And she'd been able to speak in complete sentences since she was about eleven months old.

"Hello, Ucle Ewoord," she said in a very serious, very small voice. She also said my name just like Ness did when she was a toddler. I didn't mind at all.

I tickled Gracie's tummy and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

"How was the plane ride, Gracie?" I asked.

"Kinda' boring, Ewoord. No turboolence."

I laughed and kissed her little nose. Gracie and Masen were the only two toddlers in the world that might describe a trip on a private jet as boring. Between J's responsibilities as a record producer and Alice's fashion shows; air travel for them was already old hat.

"Helloooo, Edward!" Alice repeated trying to get my attention, going on tiptoe to give me a peck on the cheek. "Nice to see you, Edward. I _expect _mom to ignore me these days, but you too?"

"Sorry, Alice, I was distracted," I apologized, tickling Gracie's belly again.

"Stop it, Ucle Ewoord!" she shrieked, wriggling in my arms.

"Well, you always did have a soft spot for little girls with big brown eyes," Alice said, wrapping her arm around Ness, who'd just found her way over to us.

"Only the best ones," I clarified.

"How's my business partner?" Alice asked squeezing her arm around my daughter.

Ness bit her lip and her body stiffened, though. She hadn't actually helped Alice with their children's line since she was about fifteen, but I knew she kept getting royalty checks from AC Nation anyway. It made her feel guilty, and she kept trying to extract herself from the business, but Alice wouldn't hear of it.

"Alice," Ness hedged, "You know I -"

"I can't wait to show you the new winter line, Ness! I have the drawings and some samples inside. I just need your approval, maybe some finishing touches, little Nessie flourishes, and then we're a go."

"Um, sure, I guess," Ness offered, looking to me for help. "_Please_?" she silently mouthed, hoping I'd intervene.

"So, Alice, did you hear that Ness met a boy in Barcelona?" I asked.

Nessie's eyes went wide with shock and her mouth popped open. I couldn't help laughing.

"What?" Alice asked. "A European boy? Does he speak that funny Spanish dialect that sounds like lisping? Is he tall, and dark, and handsome?"

"Dad!" Ness chastised, shaking her head.

Well, the change of topic meant they wouldn't be talking about fashion design, and maybe I'd be able to listen in on some details. I left Alice and Ness to their gossip, and threw Gracie in the air as I made my way over to J and Masen.

xXxXx

**WPOV**

Dinner sucked.

Uncle J kept asking me about my music and Uncle Emmett kept trying to get me to try out for football in the fall and Masen kept climbing onto my lap and forcing green beans into my mouth and Gram kept patting me on the shoulder for some strange reason. It was overwhelming and it made it hard to concentrate on staying angry with dad.

And being angry with dad was annoying, because it was getting in the way of things. Like, I was kind of dying to ask J for his opinion on the loudness wars playing out in the music industry and whether he felt that the extreme use of compression in production was impacting musical composition.

Actually, I almost caved, but then I caught dad staring at me from across the table and I found my will to shut up and cross my arms and slouch in my chair.

Dad was so sure I was going to be a fuck up.

It wasn't fair.

And he just barged in on me when I was with a girl last night.

And he didn't even say he was sorry.

He wasn't sorry, either. He was so sure he was right. He was so sure I couldn't handle myself, and so sure I was just like him.

I'd read this child development book that I found on my mom's bookshelf a couple weeks ago and it said that right now I was supposed to be developing independence and autonomy from my parents as I established a personal identity. Well, I really think dad should definitely read that book, because he was making all of that really fucking hard. You know, with all of his "you're just like me" crap, and saying it like he was horrified, too. Like he thought that being his son was a permanent handicap and a nightmare.

And if I was Dad's nightmare, Ness was his little dream come true.

I watched as dad joked with Ness about how she was keeping some new guy she was seeing a secret. How much you want to bet that guy touched Nessie's boobs? Was she grounded? I'll let you guess.

When I was little I thought dad acted different to me because I was younger than Ness, but now I knew it was because he didn't trust me, even though, up until last night, I hadn't really done anything really wrong. Okay, maybe a little wrong. Maybe. Maybe I cut school sometimes, but why should I sit there when I already knew what they were talking about? Quadratic equations and polynomials were easy. And maybe sometimes I snuck out after I came home for the night. I wasn't fucking perfect like they all thought Ness was.

But she wasn't perfect! I know Ness smoked pot in high school. And I never told anybody about that time when I came home early from school and heard her in her room with Dan Stoltenberg. I could. It killed me not to say it, but Ness hadn't done anything to me, so there really wasn't any point.

"So, Will," Aunt Alice asked, "Any big plans for this next school year?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "I don't know."

"I hear you're getting a band together," J said.

"Yeah, I guess," I offered, pushing food around on my plate. I totally planned to try to talk to him without dad around at some point.

"You know, Will sent me this recording and I think they sound just like -" Ness began, but then she caught me glaring at her and she suddenly stopped talking in mid sentence.

"Don't even try to say I sound like dad or something, Ness," I growled. "That's just ridiculous."

"That's not what I was going to say, Two Minute," she said, rolling her eyes. "Dad doesn't sing in a hard core band."

No. No, he fucking didn't.

Aunt Rosalie started listing what each of her kids was going to do that year, even though nobody had asked her. Each one of my cousin's lists started with football and ended with one of them giving Uncle Emmett a high-five. They were such dorks.

"What about you, Vanessa?" Gram asked.

I watched as Nessie's eyes slid in mom's direction and mom very subtly shook her head. Ness planted a smile on her face that didn't quite belong. Ness and mom were obviously up to something. That was weird.

"I don't know, really, Grandma Esme. I'm just concentrating on getting my GPA up, I guess, because there's this internship I really want next summer… For the Spanish Consulate."

"The Spanish Consulate?" Aunt Rosalie cut in. "Like _Barcelona_, Spanish?" she asked in a funny, teasing voice.

"Just _Spanish_, Spanish," Ness answered with a smile. I watched my dad looking really carefully at Ness. Weird, again.

The shrill ring of the doorbell interrupted any further discussion about the difference between Barcelona, Spanish and Spanish, Spanish. Gram stood up and quietly excused herself.

My mom and dad started doing that staring thing where they kind of seemed to talk, but were just holding hands under the table. Masen threw his plate on the floor and grumbled something that sounded like, "Absolutely inedible!"

Gracie reminded him about proper manners. Those two were crazy smart, and maybe just a little regular crazy too. I liked them.

"William!" Gram called from the front room. "Could you come here for a moment?"

"Um," I hedged as I pushed my chair back. Dad's eyes were wide and questioning, but I didn't know why Gram was calling me. Was I supposed to read minds now? Would that make him happy?

""Scuse me, guys," I mumbled as I kind of stared at my feet and walked as quick as possible out of there.

My stomach flip-flopped when I saw who Gram was standing next to on the front porch. Becca waved and kind of bounced a little as she stood there. I was pretty sure she wasn't wearing a bra. And she had on this little skirt thing and I could see the ties of her bikini bottoms peeking over the top of it. She licked her lips and smiled at me, really big.

"Be sure to make it quick, William. We're eating," Gram said with a smile. "Nice to meet you, Rebecca."

"Sure, ma'am," Rebecca said sweetly.

We both watched my grandmother walk away, and then Becca grabbed my hand.

"I called and texted, like, ten times, Will."

"My dad took my phone," I explained, trying to concentrate, but she was rubbing my thumb back and forth, and my dad was just in the other room.

Becca took a step closer, close enough that her boobs were almost brushing against me. It made it hard to look at her face, even though she was pretty and stuff. I started sweating, too.

"So, was that really your dad last night?" she asked, giggling.

"Yeah, sorry about that. He can be an asshole."

Becca gave me this cute halfway smile. "You're _really _grounded, then?"

"Totally."

"I didn't know people still got grounded."

I shrugged.

"I wanted to see you, later. I got us something."

"What?" I asked quickly. What could she have gotten _us_?

Becca shrugged her shoulders and tilted her head a little so her mouth was right by my ear. "A surprise," she whispered and her lips brushed against my ear and I took a step backwards, because I was hard and it would be weird if she felt it.

But she noticed. She looked. She stepped closer, like she was backing me against the wall.

"You like me?" she asked.

"I, uh, guess."

"I guess you do too," she giggled, looking at the bulge in my shorts, which was cool, because then I could stare at her boobs and not feel so weird about it.

"Are you sure you can't come out tonight?" she asked, wiggling closer. She was touching my dick, or at least her belly was, and I couldn't help it, my hands kind of went under her shirt, like on her sides.

"Maybe I can," I said.

"That would be cool, Will."

My hands slipped up, over her ribs.

"William!"

"Oh shit."

"Mr. Masen," Becca said, spinning around, her butt suddenly against my dick as she faced my angry father. I tried to move away from her ass, but pushed up against the wall like that, there was nowhere to go. "That was weird last night, for all of us. Sorry we met like that, Mr. Masen."

Becca held out her hand and dad stared at it like he was Superman and she was offering him kryptonite. So, Becca dropped her hand and I gritted my teeth. He didn't have to be a dick to her, too.

"I'm sorry, Becca," dad apologized. "Will can't _talk _right now."

Dad's eyes were trained on the spot where her ass was touching my crotch. Since I'd definitely lost the hard on by then, I slipped out from behind her.

"I know," Becca answered, like she hadn't just been royally insulted. "That's what Will was just telling me, Mr. Masen. I'm going to miss him tonight. A bunch of us were meeting over by the bunker. Later. Tonight." Becca looked at me out of the corner of her eyes really quick, like a flash.

"Well, it was good to officially meet you, Becca, but my son's not going anywhere this weekend."

My dad looked between the two of us expectantly. Becca sighed dramatically before turning towards me. "Well, okay, then. See you… around, maybe, Will." And then her lips brushed against mine and it was like the wind was knocked out of my lungs and by the time I opened my eyes, she was walking out the screen door. And my dad was glaring at me like I'd just murdered a dog on the porch.

"No making out during dinner, Will. Especially when you're grounded."

"I didn't tell her to come here. You had my phone."

"And you didn't tell her she had to leave, either."

"I'm not as rude as you are, I guess."

"Don't fucking start, Will. Not with the whole family here. Not during dinner."

"You know, you could have knocked just now."

"Knocked on your grandmother's porch?" he asked, like it was absurd. "Get yourself together and get back to the table."

And he was gone. And he was wrong. He could have knocked. I didn't know she was coming. I wasn't supposed to just shove her out the door.

I threw myself into a chair and sighed, tapping my foot impatiently on the ground, hating my dad more than ever. I jumped a little when I heard a different tapping – a tiny sound off to the side of the porch. Becca had her face pressed up to the screen… and her boobs too, but I didn't know if that was on purpose.

I checked the door behind me before I rushed over to her.

"Midnight," she whispered. "I'll wait."

"The bunker?" I asked.

Becca kissed me through the screen and her lips were soft little puckers of flesh between the plasticky grid of the mesh, brushing against mine, moving, her hand pressed against my cheek. I went for it: I palmed her boobs, and I felt the little hard tips pushing against the screen through her shirt. Becca stepped back, breaking the contact, and I leaned against the screen so much I was afraid I was going to break through it. She smiled and bit her bottom lip before she disappeared around the side of the house.

I was going to meet Becca at that bunker tonight if it killed me. Or my dad. Probably my dad, if he ever found out.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks so much for reading this little out-take. And dude, thanks for the reviews! Lot's of people asked why Will was so angry with the last chapter, so I hope he cleared it up a little, whether you agree with him or not. One more chapter to go in this little mini-series, or whatever it is. It's kind of like A Very Cullen Reunion, I think. Maybe? Anyway, I'd love to hear from you! Until next time, xxx, M**


	7. Will's Will, Part IV

**A/N: Warning: This deals pretty graphically with teenagers and sex and drugs. If this offends you, please don't read...**

* * *

**WPOV**

"William?"

My stomach dropped.

"Yeah, mom?"

"Hungry?" she asked.

It was kind of obvious; I was half inside the refrigerator. When mom said something stupid like that, it meant she wanted to talk.

"Kind of."

I grabbed some turkey, bread and mayo and sighed before turning around to face whatever mom was going to throw my way. It's not like I didn't have a pretty good idea what she wanted to talk about; I just didn't know where she was going to go with it. With dad, I always knew. Mom's mind worked differently.

"Turkey?" she asked.

Wow, she must have really had it in for me – asking two obvious questions back to back like that. I grabbed a dish and brought my stuff over to the island in the middle of the room. Mom pulled her robe around her and hopped up onto a stool.

"Yep, turkey," I confirmed. "A turkey sandwich. I'm hungry."

Mom frowned and I instantly regretted my slightly smartass remark. I concentrated on my sandwich. Mom slid a knife across the island.

"Thanks," I said without looking up.

"Your father isn't happy, Will."

I held back my strong need to ask, "_What's new_?" because it didn't seem like dad was ever happy… with me, at least.

"Yeah?" I asked instead. Now I was the one making stupid remarks.

"I don't like the way you've been speaking to him, William."

"Well, I don't like the way he's been speaking to me, _mom_."

I spread the hell out of the mayo. The bread got a little mashed.

"He's your father."

"And I'm his son. That's the problem, right?" I asked, letting the knife clatter against the countertop, finally glancing up at my mom. She looked really calm. Not good.

"Yes, but I don't think you understand the full meaning behind that statement."

I started tapping my foot against the chair rung. I understood, all right. "He thinks I'm going to fuck up just because I'm his kid. He thinks less of me just because I'm his kid. And he's unreasonable and unfair and …"

"William. Enough."

I shut up and went back to my sandwich. It was the kind of sandwich that dad would hate: white bread, saturated fat, preserved meat. I smirked at it. I decided I'd add some salt, too.

"Your father's scared, Will."

See what I mean? Mom liked to throw curve balls.

"Maybe," I agreed. "Scared I'm going to screw up my life."

"William, please, I'd like you to look at this from your father's perspective."

I placed my knife on the countertop and stared hard at my sandwich. "From the point of view of an overbearing addict?" I spat. I managed to surprise myself with that one; I hadn't planned on saying it out loud.

Mom didn't answer and I was afraid to look up. It felt like I couldn't even move my arms to pick up my sandwich. I was nervous about breathing, almost. Mom slid off her bench and walked around to my side of the island. She took a seat next to me and placed her elbows on the countertop.

I couldn't look at her.

"You're going to listen to me, young man," she informed me in a very quiet voice. "And you're not going to interrupt. You're not even going to make silent, smart remarks to yourself. Understood?"

She paused. I nodded. My foot tapped faster. I started pulling at the crust on my bread. Mom took a deep breath. I noticed her fingers tracing patterns on the granite countertop out of the corner of my eyes.

"You and I can't understand, Will, what it's like to live from the age of seven without anyone in the world to love and care for you. My mother left me when I was five years old, and that screwed me up enough. Your father though, he watched his mother slowly die before his eyes, and then his own father intentionally ignored him and left him to fend for himself when he was just seven years old.

"That shapes a person; it leaves scars, and it does something to a spirit that's very hard to reverse. So, your father shut down and he didn't chance loving anything or anyone, because he knew what it meant to lose that love. He knew how much it would hurt.

"Until _you_, Will. Until you and Nessie and me. That changed everything for him. And now your father's bound to hold on tighter than anyone else would, because losing love again…"

Mom paused and took a deep, unsteady breath. She wiped at her eyes. I stared at my plate.

"He knows how much it hurts," she continued in a small, shaky voice. "He has a better understanding of the depth of his love for his family than most other men out there ever could. He loves you fiercely, because you're his own, and because there isn't anyone else out there like you, and because you're the most precious thing he never thought he'd have."

I had a list of objections in my head to everything mom said, along with examples of how she'd analyzed things the wrong way, but they seemed very small and insignificant. And mean. She'd made dad seem vulnerable. That felt wrong.

Mom stopped talking. The house creaked: the stairs, the porch, the ceiling over our heads. The cicadas were really loud. Nessie and Gracie were giggling about something in the little room at the back of the house that used to be a pantry, but had been turned into a girls' room.

"I'm going to bed, Will," mom said. The next thing I knew, her arms were around me, and I let her hug me. I let myself forget for a second how angry I really wanted to be.

"Think about what I said?" she asked.

"Yeah, mom."

She used to kiss the top of my head. These days she kissed my shoulder.

"Good. Now, straight to bed after that sandwich. I'll be listening for you on the stairs."

I was sure she would be. You could hear everything in that old house; sometimes, way too much.

**EPOV**

Ever since that first disastrous year I'd spent at the beach house Esme had instituted a rule that we weren't allowed to bring work with us for Labor Day weekend. So Bella and I secretly saved our work for the evenings and simply didn't tell Esme that we often slipped into bed and pulled out paperwork and laptops. We did what we had to in order to enjoy our time with the family without worrying about responsibilities piling up at home.

Tonight Bella left me in bed re-reading a grant proposal as she went for a glass of water. I was trying to focus on the spreadsheet in front of me, making doubly sure our numbers matched the parameters the foundation required, but I was distracted by Bella's voice drifting up from the floorboards.

I tried to go back to my work, but it wasn't happening. Ness shared a tiny room with Gracie on the first floor, and I felt certain that's who Bella was talking with. Tonight, Bella had carefully deflected all of my attempts to get more information about the boy Ness was seeing. I hadn't pushed the matter, but it didn't mean I wasn't still curious.

I _could_ wander downstairs. I _could_ stumble into a conversation over a cup of tea. It _could_ force the two of them to admit a few things. And apparently I could and I would, because I was already climbing out of the bed and quietly opening the bedroom door. I heard the boys and their video games at the other end of the house. Emmett was snoring in the next room. Rose and Alice were chattering across the hall.

I suppose I knew that what I was doing was wrong, because I was more quiet than usual as I made my way down the stairs. But as I reached the first floor landing, I realized Bella wasn't speaking to Ness after all.

"_You're going to listen to me, young man, and you're not going to interrupt! You're not even going to make smart remarks to yourself_."

Bella hardly ever took that hardnosed tone with Will. It took me by surprise and stopped me in my tracks. Once again, it may have been wrong, but I sat on the steps and listened, and just like Bella had instructed my son, I didn't interrupt and I didn't make any smart remarks, not even to myself.

I listened as Bella explained my life and my feelings and my heart in terms both alien and insightful. Bella shared words with Will that she and I had silently acknowledged, but had never spoken out loud. She distilled my distress and fear and fucking rage into a narrative that spoke with crystal clarity.

Bella knew me better that I knew myself. And I sat with wet eyes, full of fucking gratitude for my wife and my children. My chest hurt and I found it hard to breathe, and any other time I would have been certain I was having a heart attack, but now I knew it was the pain of being lade bare, the pain of understanding how well and how thoroughly I was loved, the pain that came with hearing your biggest fears spoken out loud.

Bella startled when she found me on the stairs, and I blinked, gazing at her with wonder. Sixteen fucking years and she still managed to surprise me.

"B," I rasped.

"You're a good man, Edward Masen, and I'll be damned if our son doesn't see it."

Bella offered me her hand and led me back up the stairs, and closed the door quietly behind us.

"He better come to bed after he finishes that damned sandwich," I said, laughing a little, my voice uncharacteristically rough.

"Shh," Bella hushed, wrapping her arms around me. "I don't want to talk about sandwiches when I just realized how much I love you, all over again."

Her lips brushed against mine, and a flicker of that old heat shot through my chest. "Maybe I just realized how brave you are," she whispered against my lips. "How lucky I am."

"It doesn't compare to -"

"Shh," she repeated, and her hands ran up under my T-shirt, over my chest. And in her arms I felt a rush of goodness, pure and simple, and security and peace, and I let her pull my T-shirt over my head and we left words behind. I knew more than ever that I'd given myself to the right person, and I knew there would never be anyone else.

She led me to bed and climbed on top of me and pushed my shorts down over my hips.

"I love you, Edward," she whispered, and she kissed me, slow and sweet.

"Fuck, Bella," I murmured, finding my way under her robe, pulling it off her, running my hands under her T-shirt - my T-shirt, to be exact; my old Penn Law shirt, threadbare and full of holes.

"Sometimes it just hits you," she said.

And I knew, and I covered her lips with mine, because she didn't need to elaborate. There was all the proof I needed: in my heart, in the way my body still reacted to hers, in the heat and hope that rose between us whenever her skin touched mine.

Bella was so fucking pretty: with parted lips and heavily lidded eyes, the way her hair fell over her breasts and the way her nipples peeked through the tangled chestnut waves, her waist, her hips, the soft folds of her pussy as they ran over me. And since she'd shaved, there was this fine friction too, setting my teeth on edge in the best way possible.

After so many years, Bella knew the way to rock and tease, and she'd lean backwards and palm my balls, or she'd lean forward so her tits barely brushed my chest. Until finally, with swift and sure movements, with her lips pressed against my ear, she could make us come together, panting, whispering "god," and "yes," and "fuck," and "fuckfuckfuck," over and over, relentlessly... Until my hands were holding her hips, clutching, driving, driving, until colors exploded against the underside of my eyelids as I exploded inside of her. Until she lay on top of me, hardly weighing anything at all, breathing, holding, kissing.

xXxXx

**WPOV**

I don't think mom was listening for my footsteps on the stairs. There was no telling how much time I had, though. I knew that if I moved fast she still wouldn't be listing when I went back downstairs, either. That's all I was going to say about that.

And, yeah, I was going to see Becca at the bunker. I'd heard what mom had to say; dad loved me. Right. That was cool or whatever. But he was still being an asshole and it didn't change the way he was acting and it didn't mean that suddenly he was reasonable or right. I guess she was just saying I was stuck with it. Right… so I was going to live with it. I was going to do what I had to do.

I had to see Becca.

I thought about her little nipples peeking through the screen. I thought about how it felt to run my hands over her ribs, I thought about how it felt to have a tit in each hand last night. I didn't have a choice.

Back in the bedroom, my littlest cousins were lined up in sleeping bags on the floor, asleep, but Tyler and Justin were still awake. Tyler was obsessing over some stupid football game, trying to win the virtual Rose Bowl, and Justin had to finish some summer reading challenge or something and he had about ten books to get through in the next five days.

"Hey, Will," they both said at exactly the same time, both without looking up.

"Jinx, owe me a Coke," they chanted to each other without looking up.

"Hey," I snickered, throwing myself onto my bed, trying not to laugh out loud at them.

"So, uh, Will… we, uh, heard dad telling mom that your dad's really mad at you about your new girlfriend," Tyler said without looking up from the game in his hands.

"I don't have a girlfriend."

"Oh."

"Who was the girl that showed up at dinner, then?" Justin asked, peeking up from his reading.

"I don't know. A girl, I guess," I said, grabbing for my backpack beneath the bed. I threw my iPod and a pair of swim trunks and a book into my bag. I paused. I wasn't sure what I was supposed to bring to see a girl at night. A condom, probably. I didn't have a condom. Or maybe beer or something. Uncle Emmett kept beers in the extra refrigerator in the storage shed. I'd get a couple on my way.

"Was that the same girl I heard Aunt Alice saying that you, uh, you know…" I looked up to see Tyler groping a set of imaginary boobs. His game was paused in his lap.

"Fuck me," I grumbled.

"Really?" Justin asked, placing his book next to him on the bed. "She…" he looked around, like some adult was spying on us. "She… fucked you?" he whispered.

"Oh my god. That's none of your business," I said as I zipped the bag and got to my feet.

"What are you doing?" Tyler asked, looking between me and my bag like I was a math problem.

"I'm going out."

"But you're grounded, remember?"

I rolled my eyes. "I know that, Tyler."

"You're going to see _her_, aren't you?" Justin asked. "Are you going to… fuck her _again_?" he whispered.

"Don't tell on me, okay?" I asked my cousins. I could tell I was safe with Justin. He was staring at me with big eyes like I was a superhero. Tyler looked like he was still trying to find my square root, though. He could go either way.

"And you're going like that?" Tyler asked.

"Like what?" I asked, realizing that it was my clothes he was scrutinizing, not my actions.

"When dad takes mom out he wears cologne and dresses up and stuff," Tyler said, shaking his head sadly at me.

"Sometimes he gives her flowers, too," Justin added.

I decided on the spot that those two would probably never get laid. I wondered if _I _was going to get laid. I wondered if maybe there was something I was supposed to do if I might be getting laid. Just as I was considering Justin and Tyler's wisdom, Justin pushed his ass into Tyler's face and let one rip.

"Damn, dude!" Tyler yelled, pushing Justin off the bed. Yeah, I didn't have to do a fucking thing, except maybe to remember not to fart in Becca's face.

xXxXx

"Are you going to, like, get in trouble?" Becca asked when she noticed me walking towards her down the beach, as she kind of looked me over from head to toe. I checked her out right back as she sat at the edge of the water with knees tucked under her chin and her feet dug in the sand. Her hands were deep in the pocket of her black hoodie, her bare feet crossed in front of her.

"Whatever," I said with a shrug, sitting down beside her. The sand was wet and cold and it was going to look like I peed my pants backwards. "I brought beer," I said hopefully, hoping that was the right move. She'd downed the whole can last night. I started rummaging through my bag.

"Nice," Becca said, and kissed my cheek really quick. "Thanks."

I handed Becca the can and our fingers touched, and I went in for a real kiss. I pressed my lips against hers and then my tongue, and then she opened her mouth, and then I left the second beer in my bag so I could feel her boobs again.

Becca stated to unzip her hoodie as she kissed me back, leaning into me.

"Out here?" I asked, pulling away from her a little, looking around to see who else was on the beach.

"Well, I was thinking…" she nodded toward the big old concrete bunker that rose out of the sand next to us. It looked seriously creepy, and really dirty.

"_There_?" I asked.

"Come on, it's not that bad."

Becca gave me her hand and led me toward the entrance. It looked like there was a weird light flickering from somewhere inside.

"What's that?" I asked, seriously creeped out.

"I was hoping you'd come tonight," was all Becca said as she tugged me along. We both climbed over the storm fence that was supposed to keep people (and storms) out and Becca lead me down a dank, slimy concrete passage that went straight through to the other side of the thing. There were little rooms that came off of the hallway, though. Most were sealed up, but a couple had been broken into over the years. Becca stopped in front of the one where the light was coming from.

"See? Not so bad," Becca encouraged, kind of pushing me forward.

I peeked inside. The concrete walls were covered with about forty years of graffiti and there were piles of trash I didn't want to concentrate on in the corners. Becca had placed a couple of lit candles around the room, though, and there was a purple striped blanket spread over the middle of the stained concrete floor. I spotted her backpack and a half empty bottle of wine against the far wall. And some flowers in a little jar. She'd brought flowers. Damn. Maybe Justin was right after all.

"My cousin said flowers," I mumbled.

"What?" Becca laughed.

"Nothing."

"I just wanted to make it look pretty."

"Yeah, that's cool," I said, walking tentatively inside. I couldn't help reading some of the graffiti as I ran my hands over the cold concrete. I was pretty sure that Jamie and Dan probably broke up a long time ago even though they were "together 4 eva" in 1987, and I wondered if Simon really did smell like shit back in 1978, or if he was just an asshole. I tried to think of something smart or funny to say, but I was afraid of sounding like my dorky cousins by accident.

"Will?" Becca asked.

I spun around and she was sitting on the blanket with her knees pulled up to her chin. She had the beer I'd given her in one hand, and she was patting the ground next to her with the other.

I almost gave up on saying anything at all at that point, because apparently just doing the right thing was hard enough for me at the moment. I was supposed to be paying attention to Becca, not the walls.

"So, um, my sister said you were at Georgetown," I said, and my knee brushed against Becca's bare leg as I sat down and slid my bag against the far wall.

"I'm obviously not at Georgetown," she replied coolly, looking away. I followed her gaze to a cemented-up gun turret high in the wall. "_1962_," I thought to myself. That was the year the military took out all the guns and deserted the place. I'd read up on the bunker's history when I was a little kid. I pretty much knew everything about it. The walls in the room where we were sitting were seven feet thick and the ones to the back were only six feet.

"Who's your sister?" Becca asked, reminding me that I was alone with a girl, separated from everyone else in the world by seven feet of concrete. Even dad would be proud of the privacy, I thought to myself. Maybe.

"Will?"

Right.

"Ness, um, _Vanessa_ Swan," I answered.

Becca's smile was huge when she turned to look at me again. "Really? _Vanessa?"_

"Yeah. Why?"

"You don't look anything like Vanessa."

"I guess," I said. People said that kind of thing all the time, but bringing up our different dads never felt like the right thing to do. It was up to Ness to share that information – her birth father was a criminal, and now he was dead, and sometimes it made her cry. "Probably because I'm not a girl," I explained instead.

Becca spat her beer out, laughing. "I'll say," she laughed. "And, that's kind of good, because I'm not into that, really."

"Into what?" I asked.

"I guess… _maybe_ I could be, though, you know, with the right guy… but it's not really my thing."

Shit, she was talking about getting it on with other girls. Two girls. Four boobs. I was instantly hard. I swallowed and pulled my own knees up to my chin to hide my erection, and I kind of glanced around like there might be another girl hiding in one of the corners.

"So, like I was saying, I brought something," Becca said, changing the subject from three-ways a little too quickly and pulling her backpack over to us.

Right, she'd brought something. I kind of guessed it was a condom. If it was, I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do. Should I just, like, whip my dick out and put it on? I didn't even know how to get it in. With my hands? Would my dick just know? Could I get her to make those little noises like the girls did on-line? How? Shit.

"I thought you might want to get high first," Becca said, still rooting through her bag, glancing up at me really quick, her eyes catching mine in the flickering orange light. She was excited… about getting high. High. Right.

Pot was 'the something'.

I was relieved and excited all at once and I kind of lunged across the little bit of space between us and pressed my lips against hers. Becca smiled.

"Okay, okay, I'll take that as a yes to getting high."

She went back to concentrating on her bag, and eventually pulled out something shiny and square and flat. It wasn't pot. It was a little piece of glass, and she placed it on the ground in front of us.

I stared at it, like it might turn into a joint, but it didn't.

"Got it!" Becca announced, and with a big dramatic wave of her arm she pulled out a tiny little baggie from her backpack.

"That's not pot," I blurted out.

Becca laughed and tossed it onto the glass. "Well, yeah," she giggled. "It's coke."

Not a condom. Not pot. Cocaine. I didn't know anyone that did cocaine.

"Where'd you get _cocaine_?" I asked.

"My dealer," she laughed.

"You have a _dealer_?"

"Where do you think drugs come from, Will?" she asked as she opened the little baggie, tapped at the corner, and sprinkled white crystal powder onto the glass.

"Columbia?" I answered. "Afghanistan?"

"Very funny," Becca chuckled. "But I haven't been to either of those places in a while."

Becca whipped a debit card out of her pocket and started tapping at the powder - arranging it into little lines, one after the other after the other. Four of them. Four lines. Of cocaine. _Cocaine_. I hadn't planned on cocaine.

Becca paused and took a sip of her beer. I eyed the half empty bottle of wine again. I kind of happened to know that the liver combined cocaine and alcohol into something called cocaethylene, which was supposed to get you way more high, but also made it likely for your heart to stop and for you to just die on the spot.

"Did you drink that wine?" I asked.

"Some of it," Becca replied. "It makes the high better."

"Yeah, I know."

Becca stopped tapping at the coke and smiled up at me with big brown eyes that flickered because of the candles. "_Really_?"

"Well, I rea -"

I didn't finish explaining though, because out of nowhere Becca plunged her hand into the pocket of my shorts. Luckily, or maybe not, I didn't know really, my hard on had disappeared about the same time the cocaine came out. It turned out that cocaine wasn't half as hot as the idea of Becca with another girl. Not as hot as the memory of Becca kissing me through the porch screen, or the memory of Becca's boobs in my hands – the soft springy feel of the dark skin around her nipples, the way they kind of curved and held themselves up like there were little invisible wires tugging at the tips.

Becca's fingers kind of explored inside my pocket. "Will!" she whispered and then bit her lip as her fingers kind of went back and forth. "I was looking for a bill."

And, well, add her hand to thoughts about the other night, and the cocaine didn't really matter anymore. I closed the space between us in a move that kind of surprised us both. I pressed my lips against hers, and this time I was the one to go for the zipper, and Becca moved her shoulders to help me, and all she was wearing underneath was a white lace bra.

"Nobody's going to come in here, right?" I asked.

Becca shrugged and kissed me and lapped at my tongue with hers and kept playing with my hard on through my pocket.

"Because… I don't… want anyone else… seeing… you." I mumbled between kisses.

Becca pulled away and laughed and pulled her arms completely free of the sweatshirt. I could see everything through the lace. "Me? People see me all the time."

"You know. Your, um…" I swallowed and nodded at the two prettiest boobs I'd ever seen and the only one's I'd ever touched.

"These?" she asked glancing at her chest.

"Totally."

Becca smiled and dug her hand into my pocket again, but this time she came up with my wallet. I think she pulled out some cash, but I wasn't really paying attention, though. I mean, there were boobs covered with lace, and it was chilly in that room.

"Well, wait till you feel them when you're high," Becca said, kind of moving her face into my line of vision. "Sex on coke, oh my fucking god, you have no idea."

"You're right," I agreed.

Becca bent over and I watched the way her boobs changed, hanging like triangular silhouettes with the candlelight behind them.

She snorted and rubbed her nose and then sat up again. Her eyes were glassy. It was that quick. There were only three lines left on the glass.

"Your turn," she sniffled, handing me the rolled up dollar bill.

"I don't know."

"You don't know?" she asked. "Why not?" Becca stuck out her bottom lip and grabbed my hand. Her other hand went to my crotch, well the button right over it, then slid it inside, like right against my dick

"Ohmygod."

"This would feel so much better if you were high."

I didn't believe it, and anyway, if that was true I'd cum in my pants. I was close already.

"So would these," she murmured, leaving the rolled up dollar in my palm. And she reached around behind her and leaned forward and unclasped her bra. By that point she was pushed up against me, so even with the thing undone the lace was still between us. I slipped my hand up between the fabric and her boob and groaned. I was immediately embarrassed. Becca giggled.

"These are amazing," I managed to say.

"So is this," Becca said, pulling my dick out of my shorts. And suddenly, she shimmied backward and let go of my penis. I gasped, surprised, the tip of my dick suddenly cold. I'd never had it all out there for a girl before.

She snatched the rolled up dollar from me and bent over the glass again. This time, though, her boobs were totally naked, pointing-down triangles. I couldn't help it. I bent over too, so they were at eye level. God, I loved them. The skin around her nipples was this really dark pink, and the nipples themselves were standing out like the points on a felt-tipped pen.

I reached out and rubbed just the tip. Becca hissed. I tried it again. She bit her lip.

I went for it and played out my dream from the night before and placed my hands over her ribs and turned her a little, so her boobs were facing me and I licked at one, like an ice cream cone. Becca gasped.

"Will," she kind of whined.

"Yeah?" I asked the boob, letting my lips brush over the pointy nipple. Becca squirmed.

"I can't concentrate."

"Good," I said to the nipple. I grabbed the other one with my hand and squished and explored, feeling the way the skin changed from soft at the base, to softer around the nipple, to like a hard little knot at the point.

And I licked.

"Down, boy," she said. "You're getting ahead of yourself."

I immediately shuffled backwards on my knees. "You don't want to?" I asked, confused.

"I do," she said and I sighed. Her nipples were pointing right at me. And then Becca sat back and tugged at her shorts and shimmied her hips, and suddenly she wasn't wearing anything but panties. They were like these white lace bands around her hips that met in the middle. Suddenly, I wasn't staring at her boobs anymore. I could see everything again and some cum leaked out from the tip of my dick.

There was a little reddish brown hair near the top of her pussy, but not much. I wondered if I was supposed to have hair. I wondered if she'd mind. But I didn't obsess for long, because she got back up on her knees and straddled my thighs and sunk onto my lap, so her bare tits were in my face and her pussy was pressed up against my half naked hard on.

I didn't have a condom.

I didn't know if I'd make it that far.

I didn't know if I wanted to.

Becca bent her head and kissed me hard. Her lips pressed against mine, her hard little nipples brushed against my neck and my chest.

"Wait a sec," I mumbled, kind of moving my dick away from her. I was going to cum, like, any second.

Becca reached behind her, and I was sure it was for a condom. I was sure I wouldn't last if her fingers touched my cock, hell, even if _my_ fingers touched my cock – if anything touched it. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes.

"Don't be scared," she said.

"I'm not, I don't think."

"Good," she whispered, and my dick moved and another drop of cum slipped out. "I kept my eyes closed because I was sure that seeing her was going to end things - and maybe I wanted things to end, but not by jizzing all over myself just because I looked at her.

Becca pressed her fingertip against my lips. "Open up," she whispered. I figured she wanted to do that finger-sucking thing people always seemed into in porn. I didn't really get it, but at least it didn't seem like it would make me spontaneously cum. So, I parted my lips and sucked her finger into my mouth, doing my best porn sucking imitation.

Immediately, my mouth felt buzzy… and numb.

"What do you think?" she asked breathlessly. She rubbed her finger over my gums and my teeth. Buzzy and numb. Tingly.

"What's with -"

"See, it's not so scary," she said as she climbed back onto my lap. My eyes shot open. She was holding the glass with the coke between my chest and her tits.

"You put drugs in my mouth?" I asked, wiping my hand across my lips.

"_Drugs_?" she laughed.

"You put that in my mouth?" I asked again, louder this time.

"It feels kind of awesome, right?"

Without thinking I jumped to my feet, and Becca fell backwards on her ass and the coke flew everywhere.

"What the hell, Will? That was expensive!"

I backed away from Becca, running my tongue over my numb gums, biting on my lip to try to stop the tingling.

"That was… so _fucked_!" I sputtered.

"Well, it was going to be," she said eyeing my dick.

I tucked it in my pants and grabbed my backpack and backed away some more.

"Hey, Will, I'm sorry," Becca said as she scrambled to her feet. "I just thought if you tried it then you wouldn't be…"

"Yeah, no, sorry. Bye."

**EPOV**

I thought I could get away with slipping out of the bed without waking Bella, but her eyelids fluttered open as soon as my feet hit the floor.

"Where are you going, Mr. Masen?" she asked in a soft and sleepy voice.

"Can't sleep," I murmured, brushing her hair behind her ear.

Bella wrapped her slender arms around my waist. "And here I thought I'd tired you out." She peppered soft kisses over my lower back, just above my ass, and her hands brushed over my dick.

I threaded my fingers through hers.

"Don't worry, Edward," she mumbled, but for the first time all weekend, I wasn't. I felt the slip of her soft skin against my back, felt the tickle of her hair as she kissed me, felt the warmth of her fingers interlaced with mine.

I unwrapped her arms and turned and tucked her into bed. Her eyes were like dark, glimmering pools, her breath was warm and still smelled of bergamot from the tea she'd been drinking earlier in the night. "I love you," I murmured brushing my lips against hers.

"Forever," she whispered.

"And ever," I whispered back, acutely aware of how fucking ridiculous it sounded, like one of those princess books I used to read to Ness when she was little. But when you knew it, the ridiculousness didn't fucking matter. It set the world right when you held that love and certainty in your arms.

It turns out that you didn't have to believe in something to find it. In my case: love forever and ever.

I ran my hands through Bella's hair; I traced my thumb over her cheekbone, I watched the rise and fall of her sleepy chest, and I thanked god for the miracle that brought us together over and over again so many years ago, and for Bella's will, because she'd never let go. Maybe her will would make all the difference. It had to. In so many ways, it already had.

I sighed contentedly. So did Bella.

"I'm good, B. Really good."

"Then where are you going?"

"The porch, maybe? I don't know. Maybe to write."

"Oh, okay."

"Sleep," I said with a soft kiss to her forehead."

"You too, Edward. Don't be long."

"Okay, B. Night."

xXxXx

I sat on the porch swing with pad of staff paper in my hands. I'd filled in all of the blanks in my music theory knowledge when I took piano lessons with Ness when she was little. Despite my brother-in-law's pleas, though, I'd never published any of my music. Well, except for that first piece I'd given him the rights to. It was too personal, too close to my soul, and there were very few people I was comfortable sharing that with.

Tonight the notes lingered on the page, warm and even, like breath, like the breeze off the shore, even and incessant like the tide. I was so lost in the music springing to life in my hands, lost in the melody in my head, that I was only half aware of the squeak of the screen door and the creaking wood of the porch.

"Hey."

I blinked. I took a sharp breath. Then I looked at my son, taking a seat on the other side of the porch… My son that was supposed to be asleep in his room hours ago. My son whom I'd grounded.

"Will," I replied.

"Can I ask you something, but not like you're my dad? Can you do that?" Will asked, looking at his hands. He was still clutching his backpack.

"I can try."

Will lifted his head and stared at the dark night just outside the screen.

"Does it make you weird if you just walk away… from a girl?"

"What?" I asked, trying to keep my calm. It was easier tonight.

"You know, like, I don't know, if you're with her and you, decide…" Will closed his eyes. "I don't know," he mumbled.

I closed my eyes, too. I bit my lip. I felt the peace from the unrealized melody in my hands seeping into the night air. He walked away.

"It's not weird. But it's rare. I'd wager that it hardly ever happens," I replied.

"Did you ever turn someone down? A girl?"

All at once, years-old thoughts of Bella and the outdoor shower surged into my head, but even though he'd asked as a friend, Will was my kid and that was his mom, and… I took another breath.

I needed to find a way to be honest and to let him know where I was coming from. Tonight it seemed easier.

"When I was your age, Will… I didn't walk away enough. I used sex to prove myself, and I used sex, sometimes, to support myself." I let that settle in the air. I made sure to look my son in the face, even if he was looking at his feet. "And when I was older, all of that… baggage, well, I walked away a lot. I walked away all the time and it got in the way of having any meaningful relationships at all. I even walked away from your mother, at one point.

"It's important to know when to walk away and when to stay. I got it wrong for a long time."

Will settled his bag on the floor and pulled his feet up onto his chair.

"Tonight?" I asked.

Will shrugged and swallowed. "And, if someone… don't get mad, please, dad?"

"I'm not angry."

"And if someone, like, surprises you and puts something in your mouth, like against your teeth, and you didn't want them to… does it count?"

What. The. Hell.

"You might have to be more specific, Will." I stayed calm.

"Like, drugs… but if I didn't get high, and I didn't mean to… it doesn't count. Right?"

I waited, my mind reeling, dying to ask what drugs, what the fuck had happened, who the hell he'd been with, and what the fuck they'd done to my son.

But he didn't get high. He hadn't wanted to.

"It doesn't count."

"I didn't think so."

"I'm glad your mother wasn't up."

"Me too."

We sat. Will eyed the pad on my lap. "You're writing?"

"I was," I said with a small smile.

"Can I see?" he asked, and his eyes met mine, and they were clear and grateful.

"Of course," I replied and I passed the pages to my son.

"It's quiet," he murmured half to himself as his eyes traveled over the lines of music I'd jotted down.

The night was quiet; just waves and cicadas and the rush of the breeze through the tall dune grass.

"What's it about?" he asked.

"The kind of peace you feel when you know everything's going to be all right."

"Cool."

"I know."

Will glanced up from the page. "Do you?" he asked.

"You're reading about it right there."

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for going along on this little journey with me... There's another TPoL outtake coming June 1st that I submitted for FFtF months ago. Maybe there will be more from time to time, but for the time being, anyway, I'm moving on. I've loved all of your replies to this mini-series. xxx, M**


	8. Fandom Fights the Floods Outtake

**A/N: I know I just ended things in a really peaceful way for the Masen-Swans fifteen years from now, but this out-take was written months ago for Fandom Fights the Floods, so it goes back in time a bit, to September 2011. But it deals with Tanya and some of Edward's past, so I'm posting in hopes you don't mind the time warp. M**

* * *

**September, 2011**

**BPOV**

It's the kind of sunny and warm day that always pleasantly surprises me in late September. It shouldn't, though. These sultry days with changing leaves are more and more common as the years go by.

Will is wrapped in a lightweight blanket, sleeping soundly in my arms. It's the only place he wants to sleep when I'm around. I don't mind. I'll take what precious time I can. Rosalie wonders if this kind of thing will spoil him. I don't believe hugs and holding spoil an infant, but I would happily coddle my Peanut - the little boy I never thought I'd have. He's a piece of Edward and a piece of me… one of the three most precious things in my world.

Ness runs screaming from one play structure to the next. She has a battalion of little kids chasing her as they re-enact some fantasy roll play or cartoon or something. She's one of the smallest, but she's the ringleader, of course. Her brown curls bounce wildly as she runs and shouts instructions to her followers.

Ness darts by the swing set and I notice two women with their backs turned to me struggling to seat an infant in a one of the baby swings. The baby is too young, though; he's probably Will's age, if that. It's absurd, but they are determined, with rolled-up baby blankets and a cushion from their stroller. They manage to prop the child just long enough to snap pictures. The baby wails and his mom scoops him up into her arms.

The other woman continues to snap away, unfazed.

When the mom and child turn towards me I notice that her face is unsettlingly familiar. I hope it's not a patient I've forgotten. That always makes for awkward conversation, and I'm not in the mood to fake it at the moment. The mom is cuddling and cooing over her small baby, completely engrossed. I understand the rapture on her face, and I forgive her the embarrassing swing set spectacle.

She catches me looking and I smile, one mom to another. Instead of returning the gesture, though, the color drains from the mom's face. It's only when her companion turns towards me that I instantly understand.

I've only seen the mom's companion in person once, but her picture has disappeared from more than one family member's living room or library or countertop. She's dressed more conservatively than the one and only time we've met, wearing a sleeveless white linen shirt, black lightweight slacks, and black peep-toe heels revealing red toenail polish. Her toenails were red the last time, too.

It only takes two seconds for a lifetime's worth of emotions to pass between us.

I don't look away. I won't. Nor does she.

Her name hasn't come up since my first date with Edward. From time to time I've had the feeling that it was on the tip of Esme's tongue, but she wouldn't dare. I know that she speaks to Sasha every now and then, and I can't blame her. They're old friends. While I know their relationship will never be the same as it once was, it still remains. I'm glad of it. _Really_.

I've never seen any of Sasha's daughters at Esme's home, though. This is something I'm also glad about.

Irina tugs on Tanya's arm, but Tanya shakes her off, not taking her eyes off me for a second. Her face is cool and impassive as she walks calmly in my direction. With Will asleep on my lap, the decision is made. I don't stand. Before long I'm in her shadow. Tanya is ridiculously tall and she towers over me - bleached-blonde, well-coiffed, with long black lashes and cherry-red lipstick. I am fresh-faced and sporting mommy hair. We could be from different planets.

Tanya blinks and neither smiles nor grimaces. Her face is an indecipherable mask.

I pull my arms around my son and quickly crane my neck to check on Ness. She's sitting and talking animatedly to a little girl with curly red hair. When I glance back at Tanya I see that her eyes have settled on Will.

"This is Will," I offer.

Tanya carefully wipes at the corner of her eye. "You don't know him like I do."

She's not speaking about Will, of course. She's speaking about the man who Will is a dead ringer for. I'm inclined to agree; I don't know Edward the way Tanya does. He's the same man he always was, but before, the man I know was trapped inside a tough outer shell. I know the goodness of his heart in a way that Tanya never did.

"You don't know what you're talking about," I reply, because I don't feel obliged to explain my on-the-spot analysis to Tanya.

"I don't, _doctor_?" Tanya sneers like she's just slung a bitter insult at me. If she has, it's one I can't discern.

"Please, let's keep this civil. I'm here with my children."

_My_ children… _Edward_'s children… _Our_ children. Tanya's eyes are on Will again. She looks pained, and I get the feeling that she wants to flee, but her feet won't work. This woman was with Edward for how many years? It occurs to me that I don't know exactly. They'd known each other forever, since they were children, just like Jacob and I… but I understand that their relationship was much different.

I know that she sat with Edward in the hospital after Alice found him.

I know that Edward harbors guilt over how he treated her.

I know that she can't tear her eyes from Will.

And I know that she tried to ruin Edward's benefit a year ago, and that she had him fired from his job. It would have taken much more than that to ruin my husband's career, though. These days Edward's actually happy with his non-profit work, and he's more successful than ever. People in high places are pushing him to run for city council, although I know he has no plans to do that whatsoever. He's made a name for himself, and he's making better lives for children, daily.

Tanya wipes at her nose. She can no longer hide the longing in her eyes. Any other woman with such seep maternal yearnings would ask to hold Will. Of course, Tanya doesn't.

"What do you want from me?" I ask, because Tanya hasn't moved, but I've somehow been moved to pity this blonde bombshell of a woman. It's hard to believe that Edward spent so many years with her. Perhaps, armed with this knowledge, I should be somewhat jealous of her never-ending legs, her ample chest, and her striking lavender eyes. I'm not, though. She never had him, no matter how much time they spent together.

Tanya shakes her head and blinks back tears. No matter the stunts she pulled, I can see that she loved Edward dearly. And while Edward never wanted children before Nessie and Will, the feeling was very obviously _not_ mutual. I fight the urge to tell Tanya that it's not too late, that she still has some good childbearing years left. But I bite my tongue, because I know firsthand that it's not just the child, but who you have the child with. She will never have Edward's baby, and I can tell she's fighting the urge to grab Will and run.

"Mama!" Ness shouts as she runs over. "Ruby says there's only one kind of daddy. Tell her it's not true!"

The little redheaded girl runs after Ness.

"Tell Ruby about all the kinds of daddies, mama," Ness begs as she comes to an abrupt halt between Tanya and me.

Tanya audibly catches her breath and takes a seat on a bench across the path from us. I'm loathe to give Ruby daddy details. I don't know her or her mother well at all. And despite the resentment I'm supposed to feel towards Tanya, I am unwilling to explain within her earshot that Edward is the best daddy in the world, even though he didn't father Vanessa in the traditional sense of the word.

My mind dredges up thoughts of Jake and brings back memories I haven't dwelt on in months. He made no secret that he wanted us to have children. He loved Ness like his own. I'm momentarily stalled, wondering what would have happened if Jake had lived. Would Jake's eyes have looked as sad as Tanya's? What would he have done if he heard Nessie referring to Edward as her daddy? How would he have reacted to Will's existence? How long would it take for him to move on?

"Nessie has a daddy, Ruby. He's a good daddy," I say in a soft voice that I hope doesn't carry across the pathway. I'm trying to protect Tanya, and I realize that I'm doing it for Jake. I hope that if there's an afterlife, Jake's pleased with my selfless actions today.

"Oh. Okay." Ruby accepts my statement with a shrug and the two girls run away. Tanya watches them intently, sniffling.

Irina takes a seat next to her sister and casts a withering glance in my direction. She wraps a free arm around Tanya, who leans her head on Irina's shoulder. I know that there are many women in my life that would say Tanya deserves to feel this pain today, but I can see as plain as the red lipstick on Tanya's face that she lives it constantly. There's only one person I wish that much pain on, and it's not her. Honestly, she hardly ever crosses my mind.

I know Edward hasn't spoken a word to Tanya since we've been together. I don't need to ask; I just know. I also know that I would have spoken to Jake by now. But I can't say Edward is wrong for his silence. We've never really spoken about this woman, even though she took up so much of his life. That _does_ strike me as odd.

Irina consoles Tanya; they hug and I realize that although I've done nothing wrong, I need to go. I don't want Ness catching wind of any of this. Someday, if Edward wants to, he can tell Ness about his relationships before the two of us were together. But certainly not now, not when our lives have only just settled down.

"Ness, it's time to say bye to Ruby!" I call. "We'll be back next weekend."

Thankfully, Ness doesn't put up a fight. I figure that it's because you're either with Edward or against him in Nessie's book. Ruby was walking a thin line with her daddy questioning.

I collect our gear and my daughter, and we begin to make our way out of the park, past Tanya, Irina and the child that I can only guess is Irina and Laurent's newborn. Yeah, that's right, Edward's ex-boss' son.

The fact that these two women sitting here in the park today had once conspired to get my husband fired from his job hits me anew, and only at this moment is my anger stoked.

"Ahem," Tanya clears her throat, but her voice cracks and she doesn't sound as threatening as I know that she would like.

I swing around and face her and I know there's no hiding the anger that's surfacing.

"You don't know, do you?" she demands as I near the park's exit. "You don't know who that baby's father _really_ is. You don't know anything about him, do you, _doctor_?

"_I_ loved him. I knew him through and through; I watched it all firsthand. I loved him better, because I stayed and I knew. You, someone like you, _doctor_, you don't know a thing about him. I bet he hasn't even opened his mouth to tell you. He can play act all he wants, but it doesn't change his past. One day you'll find out. You won't be so happy then. He won't be so happy then."

Irina places a reassuring hand on Tanya's shoulder and whispers something in her ear. I turn around, grab Nessie's hand securely in my own, and try to remain calm as we walk back home.

xXxXx

There's no use trying to hide my consternation from Edward. He doesn't push, though, which I'm grateful for. It's his turn to put Ness to bed. I take my time sponge-bathing Will, then settle into the rocker and let the oxytocin that courses through my body with breastfeeding do it's work on my nerves. It's better than a glass of wine, second only to those moments right after Edward and I have made love.

I know I have to talk to Edward. I'm not going to try to keep the meeting with Tanya a secret from him, and of course, he'll want to know what she said. That's what gets me. I'm quite sure I know what Tanya was cryptically trying to tell me. I know enough from Edward's work with kids that live on the street. But he's never mentioned anything like that about his past. He may have tried once or twice before we were engaged, but he'd close his mouth, unwilling to continue.

It doesn't matter to me. I want to make sure I get the chance to say that.

Edward walks quietly into the nursery just as I'm placing a milk-drunk Will into his crib. We both stare silently at our son. He's continued to gain weight by leaps and bounds. At this rate I'm sure I'll be nursing someone the size of Ness in just a couple more months. '_That will be awkward_,' I think to myself, and can't help giggling, despite my churning thoughts and emotions.

Edward places his hand over mine, and even in the dimly lit room I can see concern brimming in his eyes. He leads me upstairs to our room.

In the past year, we haven't done much to decorate, but I like the Spartan feel of the place, where our enormous bed is the focal point. Little white lights are still twined around the wrought iron bed frame and back and forth between the four posters. We don't usually turn them on, but Edward does tonight.

I take a seat at the foot of the bed and lean back against the footboard, stretching my legs out. Edward settles in front of me and places my feet in his lap. He begins to massage a foot and I let out a grateful sigh.

"Tough afternoon at the park?" he asks, lifting my foot and placing a kiss on my big toe.

"Well…"

"What did Ness do?" he asks, and usually he'd be right on the money.

"Nothing," I sigh.

I watch his long fingers kneading, pressing, rubbing, and I know I can easily skirt this conversation. I only have to slide backward onto the bed. Edward shifts where he's sitting. My other foot practically begs me for the opportunity to further investigate his lap. He places a lingering kiss on my toe, and I know that I only have to press gently against his mouth for him to take the toe between his lips.

"Tanya was there." I force the words out quickly before I can turn to sex in order to escape. Edward abruptly lets go of my foot and it drops right into his lap, on top of his growing erection.

"Fuck!" Edward groans and I quickly pull my (apparently) very heavy foot away.

"Are you okay?"

His face is contorted in pain. "Tanya?" he gasps, and I don't know which is worse, the pain, or her name.

"Can I get you something? Ice?" I jump to my feet, but Edward grabs my ankle. He peers at me.

"Tanya?"

I settle in front of him on the floor, legs crossed, our knees nearly touching. My hand drifts between his thighs. "Sorry," I murmur as I feel for his cock, as I go to caress.

He takes my fingers in his. "Bella, talk to me. Please."

"Tanya saw Will," I say very quietly, my eyes still lowered. "She cried a little. It made me think of Jake."

"Shit," he mumbles leaning his forehead against mine.

"Maybe, well, maybe… I never considered her feelings," I admit.

Edward's body stiffens and I sense that he's suddenly holding his breath.

"I mean, she was a mega bitch this time last year. But, but -"

"She wanted more than I could give," Edward interrupts. "Will…"

"Kids?"

"I was a different person, B."

"That's what she said, but I don't believe it."

"Bella…" Edward tips his head so that I'm staring into his golden-green eyes. "B, baby…" He cups my face with his palm. He tries to smile, but it falters on his face.

"I want you to know that it's okay, Edward," I murmur.

"It's not. It never was. I took advantage. I… I cheated on her, Bella. But, really, that's nearly the least of it."

"Cheating?" I can't help it. I'm surprised he mentioned it, even though I already knew about Angela.

"I cheated more than you probably know about," he admits, then bites his lip.

I sigh. "_That's_ what she meant, then."

Edward snaps to attention. His eyes blaze. This change takes me by surprise. "What did she fucking say?"

"Edward -"

"No, B. Whatever it was, I can see that she fucking hurt you," he interrupts, and his hand leaves my face and closes into a tight fist. "She doesn't get to do that."

"No," I repeat, unsure what to say.

"Christ, B. I have half a fucking mind to finally let her have it, right fucking now!"

In my heart I know that would make Tanya extremely happy. "Please, don't."

"Then tell me, Bella. Just tell me what she said."

"She said I didn't know you like she did. She said she loved you more… because she knew, I don't know, things you won't tell me. That if I knew -" but my voice breaks, and I can't continue, because it's such a blatant lie that it scares me. There's nothing that could make me walk away from Edward. Nothing he could ever say.

"It's not true," I croak, wiping away the tears. "It's not true. There's nothing…" my voice cracks again. "Nothing that could make any difference, Edward."

Edward's stopped listening, though. He breaks away from me, stands to his feet and walks across the room. He looks out the window with his jaw set in a hard line. His fists clench the drapes and he looks as though he's stopping himself from tearing them right off the rod. I stand to my feet.

"Don't," he warns.

"Edward -"

"_Don't_, Bella," he nearly snarls.

"But -"

"She's right. She's fucking right."

The curtain tears. I don't care what he says and I race across the room.

"That's ridiculous. You know how much I love you!"

Edward shrugs me off, pulls his body away, turns his back to me, and hangs his head.

"I love you, Edward. She's just angry, and sad, and -"

"But she's right, B." His voice is softer now. I chance it and touch his shoulder. Edward flinches and gasps. "Pretending doesn't make it go away, Bella."

The words are so close to what Tanya said in the playground that I'm momentarily startled. They serve as a reminder that Edward and Tanya, no matter his silence, were close for many years. Chances are, they understand one another in a way I hadn't considered up until this moment.

But it doesn't mean they're right.

"For the first time in my life, Edward, I'm _not_ pretending. I know you're not, either. From the things you've said. What we have…"

Edward turns to face me so quickly that it interrupts my train of thought, and I'm silenced. "I don't want to fucking lose it, B. I don't want to lose you. Don't you get that?"

"Never. I promise."

"You can't understand."

"Then explain it, Edward!" The words come out like a demand, harsher than I'd intended, and my hand flies over my mouth. This isn't how I wanted this to go. At all.

"I can't, Bella." Edward looks sincerely frightened.

"_She_ knew this would happen," I say out loud. _I_ certainly didn't. Score one for Tanya. I feel less and less sorry for her by the minute.

"Come to bed?" I ask as I reach for my husband.

The fear in his eyes intensifies until it's projected like green light cutting through the darkness. Edward just shakes his head, his eyes on the floor.

"That's not what I mean," I offer.

"B?" he asks, like a prayer, like he's pleading.

"I'm not going anywhere, Edward."

"B?" he cries.

And somehow, we're eventually in bed. I'm holding Edward. He lets me. My small body cradling his long limbs, almost like I imagined I'd soon be doing with Will. But now I don't giggle. Now I just try my best.

xXxXx

It takes time. Edward finds a therapist and he goes religiously, yet he doesn't breathe a word about any of it to me for many weeks. During this time, I'm tempted to ask questions, but I don't and life goes on. Sometimes little thoughts squirm their way up from my subconscious, trying to get me to doubt my relationship because of this. I refuse to give in, though. I try to understand that I can't understand; that _thank god_, I have never been a homeless child in a big city.

Until one night when it's just become cold enough to light a fire in the fireplace, after the kids are in bed, Edward and I curl up on the sofa. He's kissing me, and for the first time in weeks, it seems like it may go somewhere. I'm desperate, but I hold back. So does Edward.

"I wish I were normal for you, B," he murmurs, running his fingers through my hair.

"Edward, no -"

"I wish I didn't have to say these words. And I'm sorry, because I should have done this sooner." His fingers find my wedding ring, and he twirls the golden band.

"No -"

"Yes, I should have. There's no question, Bella. This is the kind of thing… It was unfair of me to marry you first."

"Edward -"

"Shh." He places a finger over my lips and I kiss it lightly. "Please, let me talk, Bella, or I might never say any of it. This conversation, B… I avoided it a year ago – the first night we spent together. Then on our first date… then every day after that until you said you'd be my wife. And Tanya was right… she accepted me, but you, I didn't even let you know."

"There's nothing you could say -"

"B, please. When I was a kid, when I was hungry, when I needed to get high… You've slept with two people, Bella. Three, now, if you include me. For me, it wouldn't matter if you'd been with five or ten or twenty, really. But you can give me a number. They were people who, for better or worse, you knew and trusted." Edward pauses and takes a deep breath. His eyes focus on something just above my head. "B, I used sex for money, when I had to, when it felt like I had to."

His eyes meet mine, frightened, wet, green like the green from back home. He _was_ my home. "Of course you did, Edward. You did what you had to."

"Men," he mutters, eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"Edward."

"I was a kid… They…"

"I'm so sorry, Edward."

"Bella, please don't leave." He looks at his hands in his lap, tears trickle down his face. It feels like my chest splits open and I throw my arms around him and hold him as tight as I can.

"Oh my god, never. Never. Do you hear me?"

He doesn't respond. He doesn't melt with my touch like I hope he would. He's stiff and broken.

"I love you, Edward Masen. There's nothing that could change that."

He's gasping, his body falls against mine, and finally his hands clutch my arms, and he holds on tight. "I'm sorry," he rasps.

"I love you. I love you, so much." I know he needs to hear it. I know I can't take away his past. I don't know the half of it, and I can't dwell on that now… I can't think about what he must have gone through at this moment. It's enough to know that he's come out the other end of that hell and now he's mine. For that I'm grateful, and for that I must hold him and care for him so that I can keep him.

Forever.


End file.
